Ballerina

The smell of stale popcorn always hits different when you’re bracing for a 125-minute symphony of snapping limbs. I caught Ballerina on a rainy Tuesday evening, sitting next to a teenager who spent the first twenty minutes trying to explain to his date who the "Continental guy" was. Between his stage-whispering and the fact that I’d accidentally bought a bag of those weirdly aggressive salt-and-vinegar chips that turn your tongue into leather, the atmosphere was perfectly primed for a film that thrives on sensory overload.

Spinning out from the shadows of John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum, this expansion of the High Table’s ecosystem doesn't just ask us to accept a new protagonist; it demands we buy into the idea that the Ruska Roma’s ballet school is less about The Nutcracker and more about turning human bodies into precision-engineered weapons. Ana de Armas steps into the spotlight as Eve Macarro, and if there were any lingering doubts that she could carry a solo actioner after that tantalizingly brief Havana sequence in No Time to Die (2021), she incinerates them within the first fifteen minutes.

A New Tempo for the High Table

While the Wick mainline entries often feel like operatic, neon-drenched fever dreams, Ballerina operates at a slightly grittier, more localized frequency. Director Len Wiseman, a veteran of the slick, blue-hued action aesthetic from the Underworld (2003) days, brings a distinct texture here. It’s less about the wide-angle, long-take purity of Chad Stahelski’s direction and more about a rhythmic, percussive intensity. There’s a palpable weight to the violence that feels appropriate for a story centered on a trainee. Eve isn't a "Baba Yaga" yet; she’s a woman navigating a world of impossible rules while carrying a very personal grudge against Gabriel Byrne’s character, The Chancellor.

The choreography leans heavily into the "ballerina" motif without becoming a gimmick. Eve’s movements are fluid, utilizing momentum and flexibility in a way that differentiates her from John’s sheer, blunt-force trauma. Shay Hatten’s screenplay does the heavy lifting of anchoring this between the events of Chapter 3 and Chapter 4, filling in the blanks of the Ruska Roma traditions. It’s a delicate balance to strike—expanding the lore without making it feel like a Wikipedia entry—and for the most part, it succeeds by keeping the focus on Eve’s evolution under the watchful, icy eye of Anjelica Huston’s Director.

The Weight of the Suit

Of course, the elephant in the room—or rather, the hitman in the hallway—is the presence of Keanu Reeves. His appearance as John Wick could have easily derailed the film, turning it into a glorified cameo reel. Instead, the film uses him like a force of nature, a reminder of the terrifying standard Eve is striving toward. Their interaction doesn't feel like a passing of the torch so much as a mutual acknowledgment of shared trauma. It’s also just a joy to see Ian McShane’s Winston and Lance Reddick (in one of his final, poignant appearances) returning to the Continental. The chemistry between McShane and de Armas provides some of the film’s few moments of dry, observational wit.

Behind the scenes, the production was famously rigorous. Ana de Armas reportedly spent months in intense stunt training to ensure she could perform the majority of her own fight sequences. There was a lot of online chatter about the film’s reshoots, with rumors that Chad Stahelski himself stepped in to beef up the action sequences. Whether that’s true or just studio-mandated hype, the result is an action film that treats human bones with the same structural respect a toddler gives a gingerbread house. The sound design by Tyler Bates’ team is particularly punishing; every punch feels like it’s happening right behind your ear.

A Future Cult Staple?

In an era of franchise fatigue, where every cinematic universe feels like it’s spreading itself too thin, Ballerina manages to justify its existence. It doesn't quite have the mythical, "instant classic" aura of the original 2014 John Wick, but it’s found its own pocket of devotion among the "gun-fu" faithful. It’s the kind of movie that gets dissected on Reddit for its specific weapons-handling or the way a certain stunt was rigged. I noticed that the digital effects—particularly in some of the more explosive sequences—occasionally felt a bit "Volume-heavy," a common quirk of contemporary big-budget filmmaking, but the practical stunt work usually saves the day.

The film's box office performance was respectable, if not world-shaking, which in the post-pandemic theatrical landscape is almost a badge of honor. But its real life is happening now, in the streaming world and the midnight screenings where action junkies gather to marvel at the sheer physicality of the lead performance. It’s essentially John Wick in a tutu, and I’m not even mad about it.

Ballerina is a sharp, jagged piece of action cinema that manages to honor its parent franchise while carving out its own identity. It’s dark, it’s unrelenting, and it confirms that Ana de Armas is one of the most capable action stars of her generation. If you’re looking for a film that treats vengeance like a high-stakes recital, this is your ticket. Just maybe skip the salt-and-vinegar chips—your taste buds will thank you.