It’s strange to remember just how unassuming John Wick was when it hit theaters back in 2014. A modest, revenge-driven action flick starring a fading Keanu Reeves somehow became the launchpad for one of the most enduring action franchises of the decade. Three sequels later—where the premise flipped from “a man wants to kill everyone” to “everyone wants to kill this man”—the series has grown big enough to justify spin-offs, including this one with the rather elegant title: From the World of John Wick: Ballerina.
To put things in perspective: I’ve never been a fan of this franchise, which you probably gathered from that opening paragraph. Sure, it’s packed with creative action and impressively choreographed set pieces, with equally dynamic camera work. But as someone whose emotional investment really matters when watching a film, I’ve always found this series pretty hollow—and honestly, exhausting. Which is to say, Ballerina was never going to be for me.
The film follows the same formula as the others, only with an even flimsier excuse to kick things off (the script, after all, was born from Shay Hatten after watching the John Wick: Chapter 2 trailer): the protagonist goes rogue, hunting down the people who killed her father. Despite being titled Ballerina, there’s very little ballet here. Instead, you get gunfights, hand-to-hand showdowns, creative uses of everyday objects as weapons, and scenes clearly designed for trailer moments.
Even though Ana de Armas is an incredibly talented actress, she’s never really given the chance to craft a character we care about. Before long, you’re just watching endless fight scenes, anonymous faces, and plot beats that barely register. Her character also lacks the discipline and code that John Wick had—he followed the rules and understood the cost of breaking them. She, on the other hand, is stubborn, dismissive, and frankly, pretty unlikable. But who needs tension or empathy when you’ve got wall-to-wall fights with people you won’t even remember?
At least de Armas fares much better in the action scenes, and that’s where the film finds its footing—flamethrowers, grenades, and, in the film’s best sequence, a fire hose, all make for some genuinely memorable moments. There are a few clever surprises too, like when a standard “here are your weapons” scene gets unexpectedly interrupted. Some visually slick moments pop up now and then—wide tracking shots, precise framing—but there’s little suspense and almost no sense of escalation.
Early on, someone tells Eve: “You will always be weaker. You will always be smaller. Improvise.” It’s advice the film could have taken. Instead, Ballerina plays it safe, recycling familiar moves without the emotional weight that made the original John Wick stand out. Fans of the franchise might still find enough gun-fu and neon carnage to enjoy—but for everyone else, it raises the question: what’s the point? And how many more of these are we expected to endure?