The very best fantasy narratives often tap into the allure of hidden worlds coexisting with our own. From children discovering magical realms through wardrobes to the clandestine platforms of Hogwarts, fantasy thrives on the possibility of the extraordinary lurking just beneath the mundane. Keanu Reeves, an actor whose career has frequently involved navigating such concealed realities, has starred in a franchise that exemplifies this trope with remarkable subtlety: the John Wick series.

While ostensibly a series of high-octane action films, the four John Wick movies, directed by Chad Stahelski, have quietly established one of the most intricate and compelling fantasy worlds of the last decade. The magic of traditional fantasy is replaced by ritual, kingdoms by powerful crime syndicates, and enchanted objects by symbolic gold coins. The franchise's genius lies in its ability to conceal this deep mythology within the accessible framework of an action thriller.

The films eschew overt fantasy elements like monsters or spells, grounding their action in meticulously choreographed combat and realistic physics. However, the narrative's true fantastical nature emerges through its established mythology, intricate rules, and the pervasive sense of an ancient, invisible society operating just outside public view. Assassins communicate through coded language that borders on sacred vows, blood debts are binding promises symbolized by ornate markers, and the Continental hotels serve as neutral grounds with inviolable laws, enforcing consequences far more severe than simple death.

Presiding over this clandestine world is the High Table, a council whose authority resembles an immortal royal court more than a criminal organization. Stahelski’s direction masterfully avoids lengthy exposition dumps. Instead, audiences are immersed in this hidden civilization, gradually piecing together its complex customs and traditions. Characters like the concierges, tailors, and doctors function as specialized merchants within this world, offering services tailored to the assassins' unique needs, dealing in services and tools rather than magical elixirs.

This approach makes the world feel ancient and vast, as if its institutions have operated beneath the surface of ordinary society for centuries. The illusion of a world larger than the immediate story is a hallmark of great fantasy, and the John Wick series consistently expands this scope. John Wick: Chapter 2 establishes Rome as a political center for this empire, Parabellum ventures into the Moroccan desert to explore its far-reaching influence, and John Wick: Chapter 4 depicts New York, Osaka, Berlin, and Paris as distinct kingdoms united by shared laws and traditions.

John Wick walks in the rain in a still from John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum.

The fantasy elements imbue the action sequences with greater narrative weight. John Wick is not merely surviving assassination attempts; he is transgressing a system of ancient laws. His character, often referred to as the "Baba Yaga," adopts a near-mythical status, akin to a wandering knight who challenges established powers, crosses invisible borders, and survives impossible odds. His journey mirrors epic quests, navigating different territories, accumulating allies and enemies, and confronting increasingly powerful figures.

Many films have imitated John Wick's distinctive choreography, or "gun-fu," but few have captured its essence because the stylized action is only one component. Without the underlying mythology, hidden economy, rituals, and ancient institutions, the series risks becoming just another expertly staged action film. The true distinctiveness comes from the tangible, lived-in world that supports the violence.

John Wick (Keanu Reeves) stands in a desert in Jordan in John Wick: Chapter 4.

The four John Wick films offer a compelling narrative that is easily underestimated. While the headshots, neon aesthetics, and Keanu Reeves' physical performance are memorable, the franchise's greatest accomplishment is not revolutionizing action cinema but disguising one of the decade's most compelling fantasy sagas as a genre film. Viewing the gold coins as currency, the Continentals as castles, and the High Table as a royal court reframes the entire series as a rich tapestry of modern fantasy.