Although Panamanian filmmakers have finally been able to tell stories about their country, its people, and their lives, most productions dealing with anything remotely Panamanian have been foreign. A few like "Riffraff" (1946) and "The Tailor of Panama" (2001) only used the country as decor, while others as "Charlie Chan in Panama" (1940) and "Across the Pacific" (1942) were not even shot there. Only the documentary "The Panama Deception" (1992) or Paul Leduc's bizarre "Dollar Mambo" (1993) were more concerned, dealing with something as dramatic as the US invasion of Panama in 1989. In recent years things have changed a bit and a few Panamanian features have been made, as "The Fists of a Nation" (2006), "Chance" (2009), or "The Dry Season" (2012), with more in production or already released. I just finished watching "Morgan, the Pirate", an Italian-French co-production that ends with the taking of the city of Panama in 1671, under the direction of André de Toth (whose claim to fame is the 1953 original version of "House of Wax", made in 3-D) and starring Steve Reeves in the lead as Sir Henry Morgan. Of course, beautiful Chelo Alonso is on hand, as an exotic prostitute who lives in the island of Tortuga and stages magnificent Afro-Cuban choreographies on the beach (of the Italian island of Procida, where exteriors were shot), but the romantic interest was centered on vapid Valérie Lagrange (I guess for co-production reason with the French), as the daughter of the Governor of Panama, "the richest city of the Americas", as it is often identified in a couple of scenes. To be honest, wholesome Steve Reeves was often betrayed by weak scripts and rushed editing that summarized complex stories in less than 90 minutes. Although he had the physique to play a mere great action hero, in this film (as a extremely handsome Morgan, if one compares him to illustrations of the famous corsair) he could have developed a more complex character than the demigods he often played in péplum sagas, with the strong traits of Morgan's personality, according to annals of history. But this is all absent in the script. It is true that Reeves was no Laurence Olivier, but he functioned well in these epics, and besides showing flair as a swordsman in galleons and taverns, and against beautiful beaches and blue sea, he seemed eager to try more dramatic roles. Unfortunately this was neither a rich production: although it is well stated that the capture of the city of Panama was made after Spain and England had signed a peace treaty, the violent campaign (that included hundreds of men crossing the isthmus in a month, through the jungle) is trivialized and reduced to a romantic stroll through fields and hills, and in spite of the great fires that destroyed the city and forced its people to change its location, the city ends without scratches (these are reserved to Mademoiselle Lagrange, for a dramatic but false demise). With fine cinematography and music, watch it as simple entertainment and if possible in Italian and its original wide-screen format.
