Ballerina (2025) Review: Ana de Armas Shines in a Ballet of Bullets

“Fight like a girl.”
— Nogi, Ballerina

The John Wick franchise has always pirouetted on the razor’s edge between balletic elegance and brutal efficiency. Len Wiseman’s Ballerina—subtitled From the World of John Wick—straps pointe shoes onto that formula and lets Ana de Armas spin, slash, and shoot her way through two hours of neon-soaked carnage. The result is a film that begins with measured, almost hesitant footwork, then launches into a high-velocity grand jeté of inventive violence, wry humor, and star-making swagger.

Plot and Pacing – A Tale of Two Movements

Wiseman structures the narrative in two clear movements that mirror a classical ballet. The opening act lingers on Eve Macarro’s orphan-to-assassin origin and on the discovery of the mysterious “X-scar” cult that slaughtered her father. Although the backstory relies on familiar tropes—revenge missions and secret societies—the deliberately restrained pacing allows the script to establish Eve’s vulnerability as well as her lethal potential. It also grants the audience time to savor the clandestine machinery of the Ruska Roma, the ballet academy that doubles as a finishing school for killers.

Once Eve spots the telltale wrist-brand on a club target, the film sheds its expository skin and charges headlong into the second act. The moment she travels to a windswept alpine village—an icy hamlet whose every resident seems to moonlight as a contract killer—Ballerina activates the kinetic ingenuity that defines the Wickverse. Long, clean tracking shots replace nervous edits, and the choreography graduates from serviceable fisticuffs to audacious set-pieces involving grenades, ice skates, and a flamethrower duel that must be seen to be believed. Many viewers may find themselves wondering why the first hour feels subdued compared with the breathless final stretch, but the payoff lands precisely because the film takes time to load the emotional chamber before pulling the trigger.

Ana de Armas – A Lethal Combination of Grace and Savagery

At the center of the storm is Ana de Armas, whose work here finally delivers the extended action showcase hinted at in her brief turn in No Time to Die. De Armas embodies Eve’s duality with remarkable ease: one moment she drifts across a rehearsal hall in a perfect plié, and in the next she cracks femurs with dinner plates or threads a hail of bullets through shadowed corridors. Her physical control—surely informed by actual dance training—translates into memorable gun-fu footwork that feels both fluid and furious.

The real surprise, however, is her comic timing. During an early nightclub hit, Eve pauses after neutralizing a thug, notices a conveniently placed crystal decanter, shrugs almost apologetically, and then uses it as a blunt-force pivot. That single glance—exasperated yet playful—breaks the tension and reminds us that the Wick universe has always balanced mayhem with deadpan wit.

Ensemble Highlights and Villainous Flourishes

Although Ballerina is unquestionably Eve’s story, a gallery of franchise stalwarts and newcomers sharpens the picture. Ian McShane’s urbane Winston and Lance Reddick’s warm yet quietly formidable Charon offer fleeting but welcome guidance, grounding the film in Continental lore. Anjelica Huston returns as the iron-fisted Director, transforming barre exercises into lethal kata with one imperious glare.

The antagonistic weight falls on Gabriel Byrne, whose Chancellor projects silky menace. Byrne leans into the role with relish, delivering a fireside monologue about “artistic kills” that positively drips with aristocratic contempt. Meanwhile, Norman Reedus slips into the narrative as Daniel Pine, a ragged former cult member holed up in the Prague Continental with his young daughter. Reedus’ rough-hewn sarcasm provides a tonal counterpoint to the franchise’s typically tailored assassins, and his scenes crackle with unexpected warmth. Finally—though the marketing long ago spoiled his cameo—Keanu Reeves materializes at a crucial juncture. His encounter with Eve is brief but thematically resonant: the Baba Yaga regards this new warrior with equal parts admiration and trepidation, signalling a possible torch hand-off without ever fully relinquishing his mythic gravitas.

Action Design and Improvised Mayhem

Wiseman’s best directorial choice is allowing cinematographer Romain Lacourbas to keep the camera wide and the geography clear. Once we reach that snow-bound village, the stunt team unleashes an escalating symphony of improvised weaponry. An early dining-hall ambush turns into what fans now affectionately call “great grenade stuff,” with Eve threading grenades together like lethal rosary beads before pirouetting away from the blast. Later, she decapitates momentum—and a few henchmen—by swinging ice skates as nunchucks. The climax pits her against a hulking brute wielding a flamethrower; Eve counters with an industrial fire hose, and the resulting clash of steam and sparks feels equal parts Buster Keaton slapstick and grindhouse excess.

Mercifully, the choreography never lingers on gore for gore’s sake. Each grotesque flourish—yes, including the oft-discussed “face meets frying-pan” beat—serves the propulsive rhythm of the scene. It is anarchic yet comprehensible, violent yet weirdly playful, and it cements Eve as an improvisational fighter whose ingenuity rivals John Wick’s own pencil-based legend.

Style, Atmosphere, and Thematic Underpinnings

Visually, Ballerina alternates between the neon noir of Manhattan nightclubs and the chilly fairy-tale whites of its Austrian finale. The score by Tyler Bates fuses EDM bass-drops with staccato strings, echoing Eve’s blend of contemporary chaos and classical discipline. Over the closing credits, Evanescence and K.Flay anthemize “Fight Like a Girl,” underscoring the film’s assertion that feminine fury can match masculine ferocity beat for beat.

Thematically, the movie explores the contrast between revenge and protection. Eve’s quest begins with filial vengeance but evolves when she chooses to rescue a kidnapped child. That decision reframes her violence as a means of safeguarding innocent life rather than merely settling a personal score. The Wick franchise has always revelled in tales of debt and consequence; Ballerina adds a new moral strand by posing a simple question: can loyalty to family—found or blood—supersede the franchise’s usual coin-for-blood calculus?

A Worthy Addition to the Wickverse

By the time the credits roll, Ballerina has achieved a delicate balance that many spinoffs fail to find. It reveres the kinetic poetry and underworld mythology that made the original films iconic, yet it carves room for its own voice—one suffused with gallows humor, improvisational violence, and a hero who wields both pointe shoes and pistols with equal authority. Those who yearn for the architectural spectacle of museums filled with mirrors or art-deco vaults may find the nightclub-heavy first hour visually monochrome, but the film explodes into color—literal and emotional—once Eve confronts the Chancellor on his frosted turf.

Final Verdict

From the World of John Wick: Ballerina starts with a cautious plié, then leaps into a breathtaking grand jeté. Its measured setup ultimately amplifies a final act that is as inventive as it is relentless. Ana de Armas proves she is more than capable of carrying this universe forward; indeed, her Eve Macarro feels less like a replacement for John Wick and more like a complementary force, a lethal echo whose dance continues the symphony of creative carnage that audiences love. Fans of the Wick saga should sprint to the theater, while action connoisseurs looking for fresh choreography will find plenty of reasons to applaud.

Join the Conversation and Explore More

If you’d like an in-depth summary, interactive quizzes, or links to streaming options once they become available, visit our dedicated Ballerina page on What’s After the Movie. You can also browse additional reviews, opinion pieces, and explained breakdowns on the WATM Blog.

Curious how other outlets have received the film? Compare metascores on Metacritic, scan the tomato-meter at Rotten Tomatoes, peruse fan reactions on IMDb and Letterboxd, or dive into deep-cut trivia on TMDB and IMCDb. For those who time their seat-leaving strategies, Media Stinger confirms whether you need to stay through the credits, and Fandango lists showtimes if you prefer a second viewing.

Have you witnessed Eve’s ballet of bullets? Does she out-dance the Baba Yaga, or is the Wickverse flirting with fatigue? Either way, we’re already lacing up for a sequel.