“FROM THE WORLD OF JOHN WICK: BALLERINA” (2025): A MUDDLED DANCE THAT FAILS TO SLAY.

 

There’s a sequence in the first third of the film wherein the titular character Eve (Ana De Armas) performs a pirouette, only to eventually lose her balance and fall crashing to the stage...repeatedly. This is meant as part of the obligatory training montage that is expected of action films, but it unfortunately epitomizes the film as a whole: stumbling under its own weight.

“Ballerina”, directed by Les Wiseman and Chad Stahelski (!) and starring de Armas with a special appearance by Keanu Reeves, takes place in the world of John Wick, specifically between “John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum” and “John Wick: Chapter 4”. Chronologically, it fills in a gap. Creatively, it doesn’t fill much at all.

The story follows a young assassin named Eve (de Armas), whose father—a member of the High Table’s far-reaching Assassin’s Guild—is killed under orders from a mysterious figure known only as the Chancellor (Gabriel Byrne). After his death, she’s taken in by the same Romani crime family that once trained John Wick—led again by The Director (showcasing Anjelica Huston's much-needed droll-yet-commanding presence).

When she discovers the Guild behind her father’s death, Eve goes against her oath and embarks on a revenge mission—unleashing a violent chain of events that threatens the uneasy peace between the two factions.

Spin-offs are always tricky. You either risk recycling what’s come before or doing something so different it feels like it doesn’t belong. “Ballerina” attempts the latter. Structurally, it’s markedly different from the “Wick” films. Where John’s backstory was shrouded in mystery (to great effect), Eve gets a near-standard origin story. The pacing reflects this: slower, more deliberate, and—put loosely—more character-driven. But with the “Wick” franchise, “standard” is almost a death sentence. Her motivations are deeper than “you killed my dog”—that much is true—but the film never capitalizes on that complexity. The concept had potential. The execution? Not so much.

This was a famously troubled production, plagued by creative differences and director swaps. Unfortunately, the turmoil is evident on-screen. The film suffers from clunky pacing, unclear character motivations, and an overall lack of focus. The solution? More fight scenes. Lots of them. Back-to-back. Sometimes on top of each other.

And yes, I hear you —“Isn’t that the whole point of a John Wick film?” After all, the original was Keanu Reeves’ love letter to Hong Kong action cinema and practical stunt choreography. Make no mistake, the money for the fight choreography is on the screen. It's in turns brilliant and inspired. But here’s the difference: the fight scenes in “Ballerina” are bloated, draining the energy instead of propelling the story forward. They shift from Game of Death to just... game to death.

Another missing ingredient? Humor. The original “John Wick” worked not just because of its clean action, but because of its tongue-in-cheek approach. The violence was cartoonishly stylized (there was always a sly wink underneath the chaos). In diametric opposition, “Ballerina” takes itself deadly (pun intended) serious, and the miniscule attempts at humor fail to land; which would be fine if it had the emotional weight to match. It doesn’t. And that imbalance undercuts the whole enterprise.

To their credit, the cast gives it everything they’ve got. Ana de Armas throws herself into every fight scene with gusto. Minimal stunt doubles were used, and she’s clearly committed. Unfortunately, for such an expressive actress, she comes off oddly stiff in many scenes. It’s as if the physical demands of the role overpowered the emotional depth needed to sell it.

Ian McShane returns as Winston, providing the same reliable brand of silky gravitas. Lance Reddick makes his final appearance as Charon. While it’s not a showstopper performance, the quiet dignity he brings—especially in retrospect—adds a poignant undercurrent. Gabriel Byrne, who’s made a second career playing suave bastards, is criminally underused. He’s reduced to a narrative placeholder—a living, breathing MacGuffin.

 And then there’s Keanu. His John Wick appears in more than just a glorified cameo (don’t worry about the incongruity of his presence here when considering the plot of the last two films. It’ll make your head hurt. Go with it). But here's where it gets interesting: because we're seeing him through Eve’s eyes, he’s presented almost like a mythic figure—wise, quiet, untouchable. Gone is the quirky, grunting killer with a fondness for puppies. Here, he’s more of a messianic mentor. It’s jarring, sure, but also a smart move: it subtly reframes the character from a different emotional vantage point. It's one of the few genuinely thoughtful choices the film makes.

Unfortunately, by the time we get to the end, this reviewer was just as exhausted as the characters—only less invested. What should have been a thrilling expansion of the “Wick” universe plays more like an overlong filler episode.. “Ballerina” had the ingredients to stand on its own: a compelling lead, rich lore, and franchise momentum. What it lacked was restraint, tonal balance, and a reason to care.

It’s no wonder its theatrical run is being cut short. This isn’t a graceful pirouette. It’s a stumble in heels on a slick stage.