In an effort to delve deeper into the perspective of a branch we’re slightly familiar with already, “Ballerina” sets its sights on the Ruska Roma dance academy introduced in “John Wick: Chapter 3.” Whereas Wick is basically a freelance contractor, Eve Maccaro (Ana de Armas) operates under the watchful eye of the school’s Director (Anjelica Huston). After an extensive 12 year training course, Eve is finally allowed to go out on missions and becomes a capable assassin in the process, albeit not much of an interesting one.
The exact timeline mechanics are strange, but we know “Ballerina” largely takes place between “Chapter 3” and “Chapter 4.” While on a job, Eve discovers a large scar in the form of an X that matches the same mark of the killers who murdered her father when she was a child. Eve gets a taste of revenge (surprise, surprise) and defies her orders to not pursue the matter further, which prompts the Director to make a phone call to a name we all know pretty well by now.
I’m not saying de Armas isn’t worthy of being in these movies, but there isn’t enough in “Ballerina” to pave a future worth following with Eve. It’s not so much de Armas’ fault. She steals “No Time to Die” out from under Daniel Craig, with a fantastic action sequence that practically acts as an audition to entrust her with an action movie of her own. But Shay Hatten’s prosaic screenplay comes across as if anyone else could have played this character with the same boring results.
The brief scene early on where Eve shares a moment with the recently-excommunicated Wick is short enough that it works as a “the future is yours” passing of the torch. But when Wick enters the film for the second time as a hired hand, it accentuates the film’s flaws tenfold and devalues Eve in her own movie. He arrives in Hallstatt under orders to kill her, yet gives her enough time to fulfill her revenge quota. In the climax of “Ballerina,” Gabriel Byrne’s Chancellor, who possesses the charisma of driftwood, hears that Eve has slaughtered a good chunk of his heavily armed Cult on her own, but doesn’t move to safety until he learns the Baba Yaga has joined the fight.
We’re told the Cult is a formidable foe of fringe assassins that’s been operating for the better part of 1,000 years alongside the High Table. They’re even more dangerous versions of the killers we’ve already met. But not only does Eve, still a relative newcomer, take them out in succession, the group itself is as generic as they come. They feel redundant in the face of four movies where the assassins are already doing open business in public and breaking Continental rules. The latter is basically a Tuesday for them. Their worst offense is the lack of memorable personalities clashing against its protagonist.
The glaring issue with the Wick-verse is once we start opening up more heard, but not seen, pockets of this world without its central character, it makes the whole enterprise wildly less interesting. Even by the end of “Chapter 4,” we still haven’t met all the ranking members of the High Table. There’s still some mystery there. The further revelations within each “John Wick” sequel are all in tandem with the titular assassin’s personal odyssey. Subsections of killers, for whom death is as much a cultural institution as breathing, act in accordance with the challenge of taking down a force of nature . Now that’s a compelling hook.
“Ballerina” comes alive whenever Reeves is on screen because these movies already know how to utilize his talents as an actor and stuntman. De Armas, meanwhile, is trapped in this limbo where she can’t help but be in his shadow. By film’s end, not only has Eve has completed her journey into becoming Wick’s replacement, going so far as to adorn herself in a similar outfit complete with a similar black suit garb, her sequel tease is the same “on the run” hook of “Chapter 2,” and I find that such a boring development.
One of the most egregious sins of the Wick-verse is failing to find its own voice in the face of a franchise revitalization.