Ballerina isn’t just a spin-off in the John Wick universe—it’s a bold extension. It marries the ferocity of its parent franchise with a fresh emotional core, and in many ways, it’s one of the most visually arresting and thematically resonant entries yet.
Direction
Len Wiseman, alongside influence from Chad Stahelski in key reshoots, constructs a film that balances style and substance. The pacing is carefully managed: though the first half gives the audience time to understand Eve’s world, once things kick in, the direction never lets up. There’s an unmistakable confidence in how set pieces are staged—from quieter moments of reflection to full-scale assaults. Wiseman shows he can scale up the violence without losing touch with tone and brings out both the elegance and brutality that the concept demands.
Acting
Ana de Armas anchors the film superbly as Eve Macarro. She carries both the weight of her vengeance quest and the vulnerability underneath, making Eve feel more than just a weapon with a cause. Her physicality is impressive—she sells the action, but there’s also subtle emotion behind the eyes when the fury and grief rise to the surface. Supporting cast members like Anjelica Huston, Gabriel Byrne, Ian McShane, and Norman Reedus bring texture: Huston’s “Director” is imposing and mysterious, Byrne’s “Chancellor” delivers menace, and the familiar faces help root this film in the bitten world of Wick while letting Ballerina stand on its own.
Writing
The script by Shay Hatten weaves together a revenge plot, genre expectations, and character background with enough care that the stakes feel personal. There are moments of cliché, yes—any action film will have them—but what Ballerina does well is give Eve a believable motive and enough interpersonal connection that her odyssey doesn’t feel hollow. The mythology of the Ruska Roma expands the world in a way that feels earnestly dangerous rather than contrived. Dialogue sometimes leans into the familiar, but moments of insight into Eve’s internal conflict elevate those scenes.
Cinematography
Visually, Ballerina is a triumph. Romain Lacourbas (and others contributing during reshoots) frame action with clarity and grace. There are striking contrasts of environments—from urban grit to snow-covered landscapes—that give the film a broad palette. The camera often pulls back to show geography in large fight scenes, so we’re never lost; the composition of shots in quieter scenes, such as in the ballet-training segments, grounds the film’s theme of discipline and duality. Lighting and colour play strong supporting roles—firelight, cold night streets, neon glows—all used to heighten mood without looking gratuitous.
Special Effects
The effects lean heavily on practical work, with CGI used to support rather than dominate. Standout sequences—like the flamethrower showdown—feel viscerally real. Explosions and fire are handled with weight; when something burns, we feel it. The effects team manages to make violence both shocking and aesthetic in a way that serves the story, not just the spectacle. The integration of stunts, explosions, and set pieces is seamless enough to let the viewer stay immersed rather than distracted.
Overall
Ballerina may not revolutionise the action genre, but it does almost everything an entry in this franchise should: it delivers thrilling action, memorable imagery, and a lead performance that makes you root for the avenger. For fans of John Wick, or of action cinema generally, this one is satisfying. It’s elegant, brutal, and surprisingly moving when it wants to be. If I were to nit-pick, some of the plot does lean into familiar tropes and the setup drags slightly in places—but those are small quibbles. What Ballerina sets out to do, it largely achieves with style.