Franchise Fixations is a recurring column by Will Ashton that digs beneath the surface of today’s latest franchise films—unpacking what they add, subtract, or accidentally reveal about the ever-growing universes they inhabit. Sometimes it’s praise, sometimes it’s therapy. Always, it’s personal.
Expanding the John Wick franchise has been both a blessing and a curse. The quality across the first four installments was so consistent that it’s hard to complain too loudly, but you can’t help feeling the series has lost a bit of the original’s magic. Part of what made the first film so effective, of course, was the surprise factor. Who would’ve thought a late-career Keanu Reeves action vehicle would become one of the most invigorating and influential movies—of any genre—over the past decade? With its razor-sharp choreography, slick camerawork, taut storytelling, and a pitch-perfect understanding of Reeves’ multi-decade appeal, 2014’s John Wick took what could’ve been a bargain-bin revenge flick and turned it into a stylish triumph. And with its intriguingly layered assassin-filled universe, expansion felt inevitable.
But for every bit of charm, stealth, bravura set piece, and winning new character the sequels added, there was also the creeping sense that they were chipping away at the original’s secret weapon: mystery. This world, where seemingly everyone is a top-tier mercenary and death is always a whispered word away, was thrilling because it was so outlandish, yet intently focused on John Wick’s revenge-soaked odyssey. It teased more than it explained. The more we learn about how this world operates, the harder it becomes to make sense of it—and it was never supposed to. In the immortal words of A Serious Man: accept the mystery. But John Wick is simply too valuable a modern franchise to stay idle, even when the titular character is supposed to be out of the picture.
Which brings us to Ballerina—sorry, From the World of John Wick: Ballerina. Yes, that’s the official title. Not John Wick: Ballerina. Not Ballerina: A John Wick Story. No, the subtitle comes first. That’s how desperate Lionsgate is to keep Wick front and center, whether or not he belongs in the story. It’s not enough that John Wick is a lingering idea in the world. He must appear, even if it makes no narrative sense. And by god, the filmmakers will find a way to make it work.
I don’t believe Wick was ever meant to be a major player in Ballerina. More likely, he was supposed to offer a glorified cameo—pass the torch to a new star. Ana de Armas, Oscar-nominated for Blonde and breakout action standout in No Time to Die, is more than game. She’s a compelling lead, and the film wisely gives her plenty of opportunities to punch, shoot, and kick her way through the underworld. Those opportunities may have increased thanks to uncredited reshoots by John Wick mastermind Chad Stahelski.
Technically, Len Wiseman (Live Free or Die Hard, Underworld) is the film’s credited director. But it’s been widely reported that Stahelski stepped in for extensive reshoots. Watching the finished product, it’s hard to tell how much of it truly belongs to Wiseman. Not that he’s known for a distinctive directorial signature, but Ballerina feels much more Stahelski than Wiseman. If anything, it plays like a film Stahelski handed off to a less-capable helmer, only to reclaim in order to salvage what he could.
Who knows what Ballerina was supposed to be when it was first announced in 2019? Set between the events of John Wick: Chapter 3 and Chapter 4, there’s a timeline where this spin-off was meant to release between those entries. But Wiseman didn’t prove he could cut the martial arts mustard like Stahelski. So rather than let a subpar product through the gates, Stahelski stepped in to ensure the film upheld the franchise’s standards. The result is a movie that’s shaky on story but sturdy on blood-slick action. (Of course, all of this theorizing is speculative—but nothing released thus far suggests this is truly Wiseman’s film.)
John Wick films were never known for their dramatic gravitas. Still, there’s something admirable about their blend of zen-like character work and stylized slapstick violence. Ballerina, by contrast, spends its first hour worldbuilding with a different tone—more emotional, more earnest. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. The choice to make Ana de Armas’s Eve Maccaro emotionally present—less hardened than Wick—adds a welcome sense of vulnerability. She’s still in training, still green. This allows us to see the assassin world through fresher, softer eyes.
The problem is, these early beats aren’t all that compelling. Eve’s revenge arc—a young woman out to avenge her father’s death—feels generic. As action leads go, she’s boilerplate. And here’s where Wiseman’s touch, presumably, underwhelms. Instead of trimming the dramatic fat like Stahelski tends to, the film drags through a heavy-handed setup that rarely grips. Even the first John Wick, for all its simplicity, had tension and suspense in its opening stretch. Ballerinafrontloads exposition, setting the table too long before the meal.
There’s a controlled precision in the best Wick films. Ballerina’s first half lacks that discipline. Despite the welcome presence of Anjelica Huston, Ian McShane, and the late Lance Reddick (reprising their roles), the film feels clunky and overexplained. A few inventive moments shine through—most notably, an action scene told in reverse, where we reconstruct the chaos Eve caused by tracing the trail of wreckage she leaves behind. But the wait to get there tests your patience. Like Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning, it flirts with being overlong and underfun.
Thankfully, Ballerina’s second half makes up for lost time. The action sequences are leaner, livelier, and more playful. There’s a touch of slapstick mischief amid the carnage—controlled chaos that suits the franchise. The standout set piece takes place in a snowy mountain town, a striking departure from the usual Wick backdrops of glinting skyscrapers and art-deco bloodbaths. Eve’s rawness—her lack of polish—mirrors these harsher, more exposed locations, making for a satisfying emotional-visual match.
Still, Eve’s emotional sincerity is a tough fit for the John Wick formula. There’s a reason Keanu Reeves works in this universe: his calm, minimalist delivery feels both mystic and menacing. It’s idiosyncratic in a way that elevates the material. Ana de Armas, talented as she is, occasionally clashes with the film’s dramatic tone. Her soulful intensity doesn’t always gel with Stahelski’s colder, more detached direction. As a result, some scenes feel slightly disjointed—performer and film not fully in sync.
Once Wick himself enters the picture more directly in the third act, Ballerina loses some of its footing. He’s too large a presence—even at his quietest—to be a side character. His involvement dilutes the focus, pulling attention from Eve’s arc. A late-stage tower fight scene, in particular, feels tacked on. You can practically hear the studio note: “Have John Wick beat up more bad guys.” He already fought alongside Eve earlier. This is overkill.
And yet, what can you do? Ballerina wants to be its own thing—a clean, efficient spin-off—but it’s caught in a tug-of-war between visions. Not a battle between good and bad, necessarily, but between compatible-yet-conflicted creative cooks. The meal isn’t ruined, but it’s not seamless either.
If this was the planned future of the franchise before Ballerina underperformed at the box office, it’s a decent if uneven detour. The action satisfies. Ana de Armas proves capable, even if the character she’s given is undercooked. But like its clunky title, From the World of John Wick: Ballerina is a spin-off too tethered to its mothership. The film never escapes the gravity of John Wick, and that, unfortunately, keeps it from finding its own footing
