A Silent Storm in Satin and Steel
In Ballerina (2025), the John Wick Universe takes a sensual yet savage detour — and it’s breathtaking. Set between the events of John Wick: Chapter 3 and Chapter 4, the film follows Rooney (played with haunting poise by Ana de Armas), a young assassin who once trained to dance, now trained to kill. But make no mistake: this isn’t just a spin-off. It’s a cold-blooded symphony of vengeance.
She Dances. Then She Destroys.
Rooney isn’t loud. She doesn’t roar. Her fury is whispered, her grief carved into every movement. Her family was stolen, her childhood burned — and now she glides through a criminal underworld to make them all pay. The ballet becomes battlefield; the stage, a graveyard.
She doesn’t shoot with rage. She moves with it — fluid, focused, feral. Each kill is another beat in her rhythm of revenge.
A Female Fury That Cuts Deeper
There is no bravado in Rooney’s violence, only resolve. Director Len Wiseman masterfully contrasts delicate imagery with raw brutality: silk dresses stained with blood, pointe shoes stepping over corpses, eyes brimming not with fear but control. The camera adores her but never softens her.
Rooney isn’t trying to prove anything. She knows what she is. A ballerina with no audience. A killer with no applause.
Why This Hurts More Than It Should
Unlike Wick’s rage, Rooney’s pain is internal — quiet and suffocating. Her story isn’t about empire or honor. It’s about the ache of being forgotten, erased. Her femininity is never glamorized, only sharpened into a weapon.
And as she whispers that unforgettable line — “Revenge is choreography… and I never miss a step” — you feel it: not just in your bones, but your blood.
This isn’t just another action movie. Ballerina is a requiem — danced with knives.
