There’s a captivating 20-minute portion in the center of *Ballerina* — or *From the World of John Wick: Ballerina* — that expands the John Wick universe. These moments challenge the series’ conventions and incorporate new elements in enjoyable manners. Sadly, the remainder of the film is a standard *Wick* copy, despite its assertions of being groundbreaking.
This encapsulates the primary issue with the action spinoff led by Ana de Armas. For the majority of its 125-minute runtime, *Ballerina* oscillates between adhering to its franchise origins and carving out its own identity. While there are moments of entertainment, the film feels distinctly disjointed, indicative of its troubled production (it began filming so long ago that it features the final screen appearance of Lance Reddick, who passed away in early 2023). The result is a movie that seems to lack cohesiveness, even with ample explosions, headshots, and intense stabbings.
**What is *Ballerina* about?**
After her father is murdered by an enigmatic cult led by a figure known as the Chancellor (Gabriel Byrne), young Eve (Victoria Comte, who bears a striking resemblance to de Armas) is rescued by *Wick* series staple Winston (Ian McShane), the proprietor of the assassins-exclusive Continental Hotel and a long-time ally of John Wick. He brings Eve to the relentless trainer known as the Director (Anjelica Huston), previously seen in *John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum* as the leader of the Ruska Roma, a Belarusian ballet academy and criminal organization tied to John Wick’s backstory. Here, she takes on the role of a strict headmistress supervising Eve’s ballet training — a skill she acquires alongside combat, even though it turns out to be unnecessary — and her extensive transformation into an assassin-for-hire.
*Ballerina* coincides with *Parabellum*, as Eve has a brief interaction with John Wick himself (Keanu Reeves, in his grunting, exasperated best), a.k.a the notorious Baba Yaga. Their short dialogue establishes them as contrasting archetypes. Wick wishes to distance himself from the realm of contract killers — as he does in his four-part series, after avenging his puppy. In contrast, the starry-eyed Eve fervently desires to join Wick’s world to take revenge on her father’s murderers.
To highlight this difference, Eve consistently struggles with challenges related to hand-to-hand combat and close-quarters gun-fu, filmed (by cinematographer Romain Lacourbas) and choreographed (by a large group of stunt coordinators, many of whom are *John Wick* veterans) in the traditional *John Wick* style. This continues until her assassin mentor Nogi (Sharon Duncan-Brewster) advises Eve to fight on her own terms, rather than allowing her male counterparts to dictate their sparring. “Fight like a girl,” she tells Eve with a knowing smile, advocating agility and intellect over sheer strength. A realization appears to dawn on the ballerina. However, the ensuing combat and shooting simulations retain the same choreography as previously (with a few additional groin strikes).
This is the first of many instances where the dialogue suggests a new direction for the series while the action mirrors a *John Wick* imitation: the same Judo takedowns and rapid shooting, filmed with the same dynamism and ambiance, but edited with diminished impact. As Eve embarks on her initial assignment to a nightclub, the neon pink and blue-lit environment feels almost directly borrowed from earlier *Wick* movies, down to the action being juxtaposed against the slow-motion movements of carefree dancers. Scene after scene, these familiar components feature lesser versions of fights we’ve witnessed before, assembled with less sophistication.
**The elements of *Ballerina* seldom align**
When the narrative finally advances, and Eve begins to gather intel on her target — leading her to an intriguing new assassin with a minor role, played by Norman Reedus — *Ballerina* becomes conflicted in its motivations. This results in de Armas lacking the emotional depth necessary to feel worthy of this grief-stricken series — for John Wick, “it was never just a puppy” always resonates.
On one side, Eve is propelled by vengeance and profound rage. Conversely, her story rapidly intertwines with that of a young girl she empathizes with, who becomes a kidnapping target for the cult just as Eve once was. Yet, this representation of Eve’s lost innocence fails to complicate her journey or influence the narrative. It’s merely one of several inconsistencies that render *Ballerina* an intriguing film to experience.
Byrne’s Chancellor emerges as the primary antagonist from the outset, leading the interrogation and murder of Eve’s father. However, young Eve remains distanced from her adversary. She never glimpses his face in the prologue, a specific visual element made clear when they eventually encounter each other.