Jay Rohr
Ballerina dances on a high wire. Every leap from this John Wick franchise spinoff tries to clear a high bar while emulating aspects of the popular Keanu Reeves’ pictures. Oddly enough, its greatest stumbling blocks are efforts to either connect or distance itself from those previous films. The Ballerina is at its most entertaining when it stops trying to be a part of something and just does action.
The story opens with the murder of Eve’s father. The young girl is then ushered into the Ruska Roma flock by a franchise familiar face. There she trains tirelessly to become a lethal individual. Years later, on assignment, a fresh clue crosses Eve’s path. Though warned not to pursue this lead, she ignores all orders and caution to find her father’s killer.
Saying exactly when the movie starts is tricky. There are at least three or four points where the Ballerina feels like it’s finally beginning only to twirl into another part of a prolonged prologue. Very little of this serves the story by developing any interesting stakes, or unique action notions. Mostly it muddles the motivations for its main character played by Ana de Armas (Blonde).
Eve desires to learn how to be the best killer possible while also already wanting a way out of the lifestyle. She sounds like someone passionately pursuing a PhD while whispering about how she’s already burnt out on the subject she’s studying. That seems to be because Ballerina wants to be a movie about choices. This is emphasized by the mysterious antagonists, a cult devoted to notions of fate.
Meanwhile, Ballerina tries to distance itself from Wick by dubbing her a kikimora. Unlike the dark Baba Yaga folk figure behind Keanu’s character, Ana de Armas is styled after a useful house spirit. She’s initially trained to be a lethal bodyguard rather than outright assassin. This could’ve been interesting if the film didn’t immediately drop the whole premise after one action set piece.
It’s this kind of back and forth that makes the Ballerina wobbly. The film wants to maintain a certain distance from the source material in order to be its own movie. That would be great if every opportunity to do so didn’t get dropped almost as soon as it’s touched. The filmmakers never commit enough to differentiation to make the Ballerina anything more than an actioner piggybacking on the reputation of what came before.
Granted, few people come to these pictures for the storyline. Since the beginning, John Wick is known for an almost absurdly minimal narrative. However, the genius therein is the blank spaces left by an implicative canvas which relied on audience awareness of formulaic plot points. Ballerina misses the mark by trying to tell too much story. The film gets bogged down, especially at the beginning by a series of tiresome clichés.
This spinoff often feels the need to set up things which have already been cemented by the overarching franchise. Typically, this is to bring in established characters or build lore. The latter then leans into another weakness of the John Wick series. That is to say, the more the in-universe mythos expands the more ridiculous the premise becomes. The audience is then left revisiting established lore or half exploring unimaginative additions to the mythos. For instance, the main antagonists in the Ballerina are yet another amorphous band of lethally trained killers who strike from the shadows of society.
Looking passed the many plot pirouettes into a brick wall Ballerina does have some satisfying action. Ana de Armas conveys someone capable of surviving the frantic scramble combat that’s a hallmark of the John Wick franchise. At risk of spoilers, the movie regrettably establishes that her fighting style is based on an outright presumption she won’t win, but what this inspires her character to do is wildly entertaining at times. Her, albeit choreographed, improvisations and immediate move towards the brutalist tactics available makes for some of the bloodiest moments in franchise history.
Furthermore, director Len Wiseman smartly shoots a lot of this carnage in ways which catch the maximum impact. Although he often falters trying to follow the visual formula for the franchise, there are some interesting choices. For instance, the finale initially takes place during daylight, something seldom seen in the night shrouded Wick films.
Familiar faces arrive courtesy of Ian McShane, Anjelica Houston, and the late Lance Reddick. Other than connect Ballerina to the overarching premise, they add little to the story that couldn’t have come from completely new characters. Norman Reedus (The Walking Dead) enters the stage briefly as a shotgun-wielding plot cog moving the story forward. Finally, Gabriel Byrne (Point of No Return) appears as the main antagonist. He ably performs a meatless role that is too generic for a performer of his caliber.
Advertisers have already spoiled a huge cameo. For those still unaware, this may be too much implication. However, suffice it to say, his appearance is solidly brutal.
With that in mind, there are some lines as well as moments in the movie likely to launch a thousand disingenuous YouTube criticisms. The fact Ballerina is so pointed in their presentation makes them feel almost intentional. I am personally looking forward to how one line will likely drive certain buffoons out of their mind. At the same time, they do sometimes feel like pandering or attempts to cut off predictable idiotic critiques of misogynistic morons in ways that add nothing beneficial to the film.
Overall, the Ballerina is an entertaining enough movie, though not one people necessarily need to run screaming to theaters for. It’s unlikely to generate the kind of word of mouth that launched the John Wick franchise. That’s mostly due to an unimpressive narrative that leans into the weakest parts of the lore, adds nothing interesting to it, and feels more like clichés stitched together instead of minimalist storytelling. Still, Ana de Armas delivers some eyepopping action moments sure to please. Streaming is an adequate way to see this dancer deliver.
