From the World of John Wick: Ballerina (Christian Movie Review)

Ballerina is largely a series of action sequences in want of a plot, but Ana de Armas proves capable of carrying the baton into the future, and the bombastic action remains entertaining, even if the unrelenting death and violence ultimately becomes overbearing. 

About the Film 

Hollywood action flicks are a dime a dozen. But every so often, a film comes out that changes the game. The John Wick franchise pushed the boundaries of the genre and redefined what a modern action movie can be. With the mainline series having (seemingly) concluded with John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023), there’s a John Wick-sized void that needs filling. Enter actress Ana de Armas, who takes the reigns for a spinoff tasked with continuing the series while also forging its own identity. For the most part, she succeeds. Ballerina is largely a string of action sequences in want of a plot, but Ana de Armas proves capable of carrying the baton into the future, and the bombastic action remains entertaining, even if the unrelenting death and violence ultimately becomes overbearing.    

For audiences of a certain age, actor Keanu Reeves will likely always be synonymous with Neo from The Matrix. But his turn as the unstoppable assassin John Wick has become equally as iconic. Reeves may not be Hollywood’s most gifted actor, but he is a perfect John Wick. Therefore, the success (or failure) of Ballerina hinges on the passing of the torch to Ana de Armas. Despite lacking Reeves’s imposing screen presence, she manages to hold her own in the role.   

What helps the spinoff step one foot outside of John Wick’s daunting shadow is that it doesn’t attempt to establish Eve Macarro (de Armas’s character) as merely a “female John Wick.” Macarro is a unique character who happens to exist within the world established in the prior films. During her initial training, a woman encourages her to “fight like a girl.” But anyone worried that the film will unfold in the mold of a feminist “girl boss” can breathe easy. Yes, she eventually dispatches waves of enemies like a video game set on easy mode, but she also takes her share of bumps and bruises. Her combat skills feel earned, and she demonstrates a degree of emotion and vulnerability that Wick lacks. When she is eventually confronted by Wick, the film leaves no ambiguity as to who remains atop the food chain.   

Of course, few people watch a John Wick flick for its intellectually stimulating plot. They want to see bullets fly. The “plot” in Ballerina is mostly just an excuse to usher de Armas from one extended action sequence to the next. There are some flashbacks and the seeds of interesting moral dilemmas, but the film is too busy staging bloodbaths to pull too hard on these threads. The original John Wick films begged the question, “How much action is too much?” They managed to avoid monotony by staging some of the best action choreography ever put to film (the long-take, dollhouse-view sequence from the last film still lives rent-free in my brain). Ballerina has its own satisfying action moments, but it lacks the sophistication of previous John Wick films. 

There are only so many ways to film an assassin gunning down wave after wave of goons, and Ballerina struggles to inject many fresh ideas into the formula. The one exception is a thrilling action sequence involving a flame thrower, which is sure to be the film’s most memorable moment. Beyond that, it stages what feels like the same action sequence multiple times, with only the changing geographical backgrounds differentiating them. The action is stylish and well-choreographed, but it feels familiar. As the death count soars to obscene levels, it quickly becomes desensitizing. The first time a villain is brutally hit in the face with a sharp object, it’s a moment of effectively shocking violence. By the fifth or sixth time, it feels like a tired party trick. I was often eager for a lengthy action sequence to end so the film could get back to the story (which is probably not something anyone wants to be thinking during a John Wick movie).  

Overall, Ballerina should satiate action junkies looking for another gluttonous dosage of bombastic action in a post-John Wick world. Unlike many of Hollywood’s attempts to pass the baton of an iconic franchise, Ana de Armas proves capable of carrying this franchise forward. Had Ballerina been released a decade ago, it may have established itself as a game changer in the genre. But in the wake of four superior John Wick films, it hints that perhaps the genre-shaking series is now in danger of growing stagnant.  

Actions, Consequences, and Choices 

There’s an unavoidable tension at the heart of the John Wick franchise, as the films largely serve to audiences the mentality of vengeance and violence from which the films’ characters seek to escape. That same thematic tension exists in Ballerina. The urgent counsel for Eve Macarro to leave her violent lifestyle behind rings hollow when the carnage all looks so stylish and entertaining. But in a sense, that’s the point. The audience, like the characters in the film, find guilty pleasure in satisfying carnal desires. We probably shouldn’t be entertained by such desensitizing carnage. The fact that we are exposes the truth of human nature.      

As with earlier films in the series, the theme has an overtly biblical dimension. When Macarro seeks knowledge about the men who murdered her father (with the intention of seeking vengeance), a man remarks that the need for forbidden knowledge is what “got us banished from the Garden of Eden.” More than a throwaway line, that quote becomes the film’s thematic throughline. That the central character is named “Eve” hammers the connection home even further. Eve ignoring prudent warnings, taking matters into her own hands, and ultimately finding herself trapped in a cycle of death is a plot summary that describes Genesis as much as it does Ballerina.   

The film’s primary villain, a cult leader called The Chancellor, is obsessed with “fate.” He declares that people like Macarro don’t make choices. Rather, they are “chosen.” If he’s the devil on Macarro’s one shoulder, then Wick is the angel on the other. Wick urges her that the “front door is unlocked,” and that she still has the power to choose a different life. But actions have consequences. In a way, both characters are validated. When Macarro asks Wick why he has not taken his own advice, he counters, “I’m working on it.” Beneath the surface of the stylish spectacle, these characters are tragic. They are led by sinful human nature into an endless cycle of violence. The John Wick series shows characters attempting to break the cycle in their own power, which is futile.