
I’ll be honest—when I first heard we were getting a John Wick spin-off called Ballerina starring Ana de Armas, I rolled my eyes at the thought of another franchise cash-grab. Slated for June 2025, it absolutely could have been “John Wick 3.5 in pointe shoes.” After an advance screening, though, I’m thrilled to admit this film feels like a fresh masterpiece rather than a tired remix. Ballerina takes everything we love about sneaky underworld intrigue and jaw-dropping gun-fu, then twirls it through an entirely new lens.
Spin-offs often bank on nostalgia, recycling the same beats until they lose punch. Ballerina sidesteps that trap by reimagining the core DNA instead of simply replaying it. You still get neon-lit club fights, the trademark precision of firearms choreography, and a web of criminal politics—but every moment feels tailored to Eve Macarro’s journey, not Wick’s. It honors its roots while carving out a fresh identity.
Ana de Armas doesn’t just fill Keanu Reeves’s shoes—she pirouettes circles around expectations. As Eve Macarro, a former ballerina turned elite assassin, de Armas balances poised grace with brutal resolve. In early Austrian training sequences, we see her warm up with the same fluidity she later uses to dodge bullets. When the revenge plot kicks in, that same dancer’s finesse transforms into bone-breaking precision.
Director Len Wiseman, teaming up with Chad Stahelski’s battle-hardened crew, marries sleek Underworld-style combat with Stahelski’s signature gun-fu artistry. The result? Sequences that play out like balletic set pieces—complete with plates flung as makeshift shurikens, mirrored room shootouts that double as art installations, and a neon nightclub brawl that feels more like a stylized rave fight. Each punch, kick, and trigger pull carries the timing of a pas de deux.
Cinematographer Ross Dowd captures every extended fight take with wide lenses and swooping camera moves that let you see the full arc of weapon swings and ballet leaps. Flashbacks to Eve’s training are drenched in cool, natural light, while her revenge scenes glow in saturated reds and magentas—highlighting her emotional shift from delicate dancer to fierce avenger. Wiseman’s tactful use of slow motion punctuates key blows without overstaying its welcome, giving you just enough time to appreciate the beauty of violence.

The film’s sound design is almost a character of its own. Thuds, cracks, ricochets, and whispered breathing meld seamlessly with a pulsing electronic score. Every bass drop lines up with a gunshot or high kick, turning fight scenes into a sensory event. The foley work—wooden floors groaning under Eve’s weight, metal scraping as she slides along railings—gives each moment a visceral punch. It’s an aural rollercoaster that never lets up.
While The Continental struggled to deepen John Wick’s world, Ballerina plunges us into Ruska Roma culture with genuine intrigue. Through hushed initiation rituals, coded gestures, and flashbacks to Eve’s childhood training, we glimpse a community built on loyalty, secrecy, and honor. These cultural layers do more than decorate the story—they anchor Eve’s motivations and sharpen the stakes of her revenge against a system that betrayed her.
Additions to the Wick universe make welcome cameos. Ian McShane’s Winston and the late Lance Reddick’s Charon return with that trademark dry humor and unshakable gravitas, reminding us why the franchise thrives on its supporting cast. On the flip side, Gabriel Byrne’s “Chancelier” feels tantalizingly underwritten—his stoic presence hints at deeper layers we never quite explore. A few emotional flashbacks with Eve’s mentor could have used more screen time, but overall the ensemble gels well.

The stunt team spent months coaching de Armas in both ballet and combat techniques, insisting on real-time transitions—no CGI shortcuts. She learned to roll out of splits and snap into a firing stance in one fluid motion, creating seamless edits in post. Fight choreographers blended classical ballet instructors with ex-military tactical trainers, crafting sequences that are as authentic to dance halls as they are to clandestine shootouts. This commitment to practical action elevates every skirmish.
Ballerina wastes no time: a heartbreak prologue sets the emotional tone, and then you’re off on a high-octane revenge tour. The thin, straightforward plot—classic vendetta fare—is balanced by visual storytelling and kinetic energy, so you never notice narrative shortcuts. If you crave layered conspiracies and existential musings like the mainline Wick entries, you may find it lean. But if you want a lean, mean adrenaline rush, this film delivers in spades.
There’s a distinct shift in tone compared to Stahelski’s darker, almost somber entries. Ballerina embraces cheeky humor—one-liners land with playful self-awareness—and leans hard into stylized set pieces that sometimes wink at their own absurdity. At a brisk 110-minute runtime, it never drags, proving that less can be more when it comes to spin-off storytelling.

As a gaming culture observer, I’m itching to see how Ballerina’s mechanics translate to a controller. Picture a third-person action game where you chain pirouettes into headshots, or a rhythm-based system rewarding style points for every takedown. Interactive arenas built around reflective surfaces, environmental weapons like plates and chandeliers, and a “Grace Meter” that tracks your fluidity could redefine combat design. The blueprint is already there—game devs, take note.
Ballerina isn’t a reheated side story—it’s a bold, inventive expansion of the John Wick universe. Ana de Armas commands every frame, Wiseman and Stahelski’s choreography clicks, and the film delivers exactly the brutal ballet you came for. Yes, the narrative lean towards simplicity, and a few characters deserve more depth, but this is how you spin off a franchise without losing its soul. If you expect standard fare, prepare to be delightfully disarmed.
In the end, Ballerina proves that with the right lead, a fresh creative team, and courage to step off the beaten path, a spin-off can pirouette into its own spotlight—on pointe and proud.
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