Eve Macarro’s life shatters when she witnesses the brutal murder of her assassin father as a child. Rescued by Winston Scott and entrusted to the Ruska Roma—a secretive syndicate led by the enigmatic Director—Eve is raised under a dual discipline of classical ballet and lethal combat training. This blend of grace and violence shapes her into a ballerina-assassin, her movements precise, her mind focused on vengeance.
Twelve years later, fully trained and bearing the title of “Kikimora,” Eve is ready to step into the underworld she’s been forged for. On her early missions, she excels; her skills sharp, her objectives clear—and always disciplined under the watchful eye of the Ruska Roma.

When she recognizes a familiar mark on one opponent, she realizes the cult responsible for her father’s death is still at large. Driven by rage and the memory of her lost childhood, Eve defies the Director’s orders, setting out on a personal quest for retribution that spirals into a deadly cat-and-mouse chase.
Her path leads her through Prague’s shadowy streets and the Continental’s halls, where she crosses paths with familiar figures—Charon, Winston, and ultimately John Wick. Wick, battling his own conflicts, is sent to stop her—but instead, a mutual spark of respect is kindled as he aids her mission, bending rules in the name of justice and autonomy.
The film crescendos in a breathtaking showdown at an isolated Austrian village. There, Eve confronts the Chancellor—the architect of her childhood trauma—in a brutal, elegantly choreographed clash that blends balletic precision with raw, visceral brutality.

Visually, Ballerina dazzles: its action choreography fuses operatic, almost dance-like grace with creative violence—ice picks on a catwalk, flamethrower duels, fire-hose showdowns. Though some early scenes stutter with cluttered editing or derivative beats, the second half soars into the franchise’s best territory, delivering stylized, inventive combat and high-stakes drama.
In the end, From the World of John Wick: Ballerina broadens the saga’s emotional and aesthetic range. It offers a new assassin with her own tormented past, who nonetheless mirrors Wick’s solitary code. Anchored by Ana de Armas’s compelling performance amid a richly atmospheric world, the film asserts its place in the Wickverse—elegant yet brutal, driven by vengeance, loyalty, and the blurred lines between them.





