If Keanu Reeves’ John Wick is modern action’s heir apparent to Buster Keaton, then Ana de Armas’ Eve Macarro may be its Jackie Chan.
Series creator and mastermind Chad Stahelski has been anything but shy in sharing his affinity for Old Stone Face, with all four Wick films positively packed with references to the action genre’s first great star, and Len Wiseman’s From the World of John Wick: Ballerina does not break from that mold. But Macarro is no Wick, and where Reeves attacks with a stoic, nearly tranquilized delivery, barreling through a crumbling world teeming with inveterate assassins, de Armas is both brasher and more human. Perhaps it is the difference between a relative novice in this world and that of a legendary veteran, but she is a teary-eyed killer whose trail is emblazoned by sensitivity. Wick wants solace; Macarro wants justice.
If it seems like this splitting of hairs is just that, that does seem to be part of the calculation here for the franchise’s potential. Ballerina’s connection to (and tenuous tie-in with) John Wick necessitates an icky conclusion that this character and spinoff may not be distinctive enough (endless speculation about just how much Stahelski had to reshoot and whether or not that explains the extent of Reeves’ presence does not help). But the action is indelible anyway, and de Armas is too good; her performance here is more than enough to elevate the film beyond the fray.
For fans, this is a familiar enough story. Macarro has been effectively raised by the Ruska Roma, the shady Russian assassin school fronting as a ballet academy, and by its Cruella-like leader The Director (Anjelica Huston), who also helped train Wick. Macarro found her way here after witnessing her father get murdered by The Chancellor (Gabriel Byrne) and his menacing group of hooded figures with scars on their wrists in the shape of an “X.” Years later, she trains hard under Nogi (Sharon Duncan-Brewster), struggling a bit to find her footing. That is, until, she is told to “fight like a girl,” a rather dated and oddly gendered directive — though it is admittedly fun and funny to see that advice followed up by a training montage in which Macarro destroys a series of men by dismantling their genitals. Regardless, Macarro establishes herself as her own ruthless assassin-for-hire in Wick’s vein, before she survives an attack by yet another killer with an X mark.
Suddenly face-to-face with a clue for the murderers behind her orphaned life, Macarro demands answers — but The Director refuses and cautions against her inevitable quest for vengeance. So Macarro cashes in with Winston (Ian McShane) to get the answers she’s been forbidden to get, and is off on her merry way through a series of escalating death traps to find out more about the cultish group who took her life away before it ever got started.
The film does lack a certain efficiency of storytelling, and whether Stahelski reshot most of the film as certain corners of the internet suggest, or he only picked up where Wiseman had to leave off as Lionsgate insists, it is clear who is the superior filmmaker with keener attention for electrified kineticism. The first act is especially clunky and expository, a far cry from the pleasing simplicity of the first John Wick.
Then again, who cares. Wick has never been a franchise of complex characterizations, and if you’re too focused on Ballerina‘s scenes of overt sentimentality, then you’re probably missing the point. The narrative is a blank stage upon which Hollywood’s most brilliant stunt choreographers go to town, and every action set piece is here weaved together with as much, if not more, aplomb than anything that has preceded it. De Armas is a huge reason why this all works; her presence is beguiling, and her movement is immaculate. So, too, is Jason Ballantine’s editing job, which — in line with Macarro’s somewhat reckless approach — is frenetic and less smooth than the way The Boogeyman is captured.
Part of the majesty behind the Wick franchise is attributable to its legacy. Stahelski knows his cinema and the series’ maximalism is in direct conversation with the silent slapstick stars of yesteryear as much as 1979’s The Warriors. It is, in other words, a unique blend of physical comedy and transcendental action. Ballerina very much continues that tradition, with several fights whose inspirations seem as disparate as Looney Tunes and Police Story. Beyond the usual fare of weaponry, there are inventive uses of restaurant cookery, ice skates as slicing nunchaku, and an entire section that feels as if the town from Beauty and the Beast was filled with highly trained killers. But, importantly, what does distinguish Macarro from Wick is a certain fallibility. The ending of John Wick 4 notwithstanding, we never really wonder if our hero will survive the night. We do worry about Macarro. Not because she’s untrained or unable, but because de Armas lets us into her skin. It is like watching an acrobat fall in the middle of a routine: it is the mistakes they make that make the successes so awe-inspiring.
Title: From the World of John Wick: Ballerina
Distributor: Lionsgate
Release date: June 6, 2025
Director: Len Wiseman
Screenwriter: Shay Hatten
Cast: Ana de Armas, Anjelica Huston, Gabriel Byrne, Lance Reddick, Catalina Sandino Moreno, Norman Reedus, Ian McShane, Keanu Reeves
Rating: R
Running time: 2 hr 5 mins
