'Ballerina' Review: A Flamethrower Ballet of Bullets, Blood & Beautiful Carnage led by Ana de Armas

From The World of John Wick: Ballerina

In theaters

Rating - ***1/2 (3.5/5)

Cast: Ana De Armas, Keanu Reeves, Angelica Huston, Norman Reedus, Ian McShane & more

Directed by: Len Wiseman

Aah, this bloody, gunshots-filled, uncountable body-count world of John Wick, it seemingly never gets old. It’s a universe where bullet ballet is the language, and vengeance is the soundtrack. Spin-offs or sidequels (yes, that's a term now and no, I won't stop) are almost always laced with the fear of being yet another hollow attempt to cash in on a wildly successful franchise. We've been burned before. Too many times. But once in a while, a sidequel arrives that doesn’t just play dress-up in the original’s leather coat but instead owns its bruises and bruisers, and slinks right into the universe like it always belonged. From The World of John Wick: Ballerina is definitely that film.

A Familiar Revenge Tale, Rewired With Flamethrowers

Just like its parent films (seriously, someone come up with a better term because calling them “parent” films makes them sound like they’re sending the spin-offs off to ballet school), Ballerina understands the franchise's beating heart. Which, ironically, is not the story. The story is wafer-thin. It’s barely a narrative cracker, and yet, it’s just enough to get us invested in this gloriously choreographed bonanza of brutality. The premise is the oldest revenge tale in the action playbook: a little girl witnesses her father’s murder, grows up in a secretive assassin-breeding cult that teaches her how to break spines and toes (ballet, baby!), and eventually sets out to avenge his death. That’s it. That’s the story. So how does it work? It works by punching you in the face every five minutes, with scintillating, eye-flinching, adrenaline-rushing action that’s relentless enough to make you forgive the plot holes, and even enjoy their airy presence like you would a summer breeze between explosions.

The only way Ballerina could’ve gone south was by being a lesser cousin of John Wick—or worse, by being boring. These are the two cardinal sins of action spin-offs. Ballerina commits neither.

Ana de Armas: Elegant, Deadly, Unstoppable

The John Wick audience comes in with a checklist: stunt design that defies gravity and reason, action choreography that borders on the balletic (yes, pun deeply intended), and a level of slick violence that could put Michelangelo’s sculptures to shame. The stakes with Ballerina were arguably even higher. Why? Because it’s a woman at the centre of this chaos. That might sound reductive or borderline sexist, but hang in there. The issue isn't female-led action—hell no—it’s the conditioned disbelief of audiences who are not used to women being unkillable, unstoppable killing machines who can snap spines and souls with equal flair. And that’s where Ana de Armas struts in, flamethrower and all.

It is painfully clear how much effort, physical training, emotional immersion, and yes, brutal prep went into making De Armas not just convincing, but awe-inspiring as Eve Maccaro. She doesn’t just pass the test. She burns the test paper down and writes a thesis on top of the ashes with a combat knife. Every action scene is a flex, and you believe every second of it. De Armas (and her excellent stunt doubles) annihilate men twice her size with guns, knives, hammers, fists, feet, and did I mention the flamethrower? Yes, she fights with a flamethrower, and it’s somehow elegant. She delivers her kills with such grace and cinematic geometry that she feels like a weapon forged in both ballet shoes and bloodlust. Oh, and it helps that she's one of the most stunning people on the planet, but that’s just the cherry on this intricately choreographed cake of carnage.

John Wick Returns, But Knows His Place

And then there’s him. Yes, him. John Wick, aka Keanu Reeves, the man whose calm-psycho energy started this entire universe. One of the smartest things Ballerina does is deploy Keanu with finesse. He’s never there to steal the thunder. Instead, his moments are neatly placed in service of Eve’s story. The showdown between Wick and Maccaro is raw, gritty, and thrilling to the core. And if your brain went, “Wait, weren’t these two in Knock Knock together?”, where they were steaming things up, well, yes. From steamy to stabby, their chemistry hasn’t dulled. They’re electric whether they’re making love in one movie or beating the life out of each other in another. Cinema!

What really elevates Ballerina from being a good sidequel (I promise that was the last time) to a standout action film is its direction and visual grammar. Len Wiseman crafts a world that honors the Wick-verse but refuses to live entirely in its shadow. The film stays faithful to the signature long-take sequences and innovative camera work that the franchise is known for. But it brings its own flair. Take one particular scene: a brilliant, technical marvel, where Eve’s car is speeding down a road and the camera pulls up to a bird’s-eye view. Out of nowhere, another car slams into her, and the camera never cuts. It dips down again while maintaining the same frame. It sounds deeply geeky when described (okay, I know I’m geeking out), but visually it’s stunning. That kind of cinematic confidence deserves applause.

Len Wiseman’s Camera Doesn’t Just Shoot, It Dances

Wiseman, along with the ridiculously talented stunt and action choreography team, manages to make the film gritty and grand. There’s something magical about action sequences that work in both intimate, hand-to-hand brawls and sprawling, wide-angle spectacles. The flamethrower battle is exactly that, a visual feast. Equal parts absurd and poetic, it’s the kind of sequence that makes your inner action nerd do a slow clap.

Now, let me take a moment to vent. The Oscars, finally—finally—added a category for Best Stunt Design. Great. Bravo. Applause. But it doesn’t kick in until the 2028 ceremony, which means it will reward 2027’s films. So guess what? Ballerina misses that train. And that, my friends, is infuriating. Because if we had that category right now, this film would be walking away with that golden statue on fire. The stunt work here is not just excellent; it’s genre-defining. This is what the word “cinematic” was invented for—action that is visual, visceral, and somehow beautiful in its brutality.

Absurd? Yes. Boring? Never.

And yet, it’s not without its flaws. There are moments, let's call them narrative speed-bumps, where Ballerina makes about as much sense as an AI-generated script written by a caffeinated toddler. For instance, Eve’s journey of chasing the “main bad guy” leads her into territory that feels less like detective work and more like playing a surreal, ultra-violent version of Call of Duty. Every person she meets wants to kill her. A waitress? Killer. A kid? Killer’s apprentice. A man serving coffee? Definitely has a knife hidden under that apron. At one point, you wonder if Eve can walk into a library without being shot at by a librarian trained in Krav Maga.

But you know what? That absurdity is part of the franchise’s charm. The John Wick world has always been a parallel universe where every third person is an assassin, and parking garages are where dreams go to die. So you buy into it. Or rather, you surrender to it. You stop asking why and start admiring how.

Because in the end, Ballerina does what it needs to, and then some. It proves that this world isn’t exhausted. It can still surprise, still seduce, still stun you with action that’s not just mindless but crafted with care, elegance, and a flamethrower.

To many, this franchise may seem like it's stretching itself too thin. And yes, there’s a valid argument there. But if stretching means giving us a stunning standalone that lets Ana de Armas rain vengeance and high-kicks in equal measure, then stretch away.

Because as long as you’re giving us this kind of unhinged, jaw-dropping, heart-palpitating action extravaganza, I’m in.

And I’m pretty sure millions are too.