What Are The Best Fight Scenes In The John Wick Series?

I still get a little giddy thinking about the ‘set-pieces’ in the 'John Wick' saga; they feel like playable levels in a game I’d love to try. One of my all-time favorites is the nightclub run in 'John Wick' — the red lighting, the bass, the way Wick navigates through tight corridors and open dance floors like a speedrun pro. After seeing it in the theater, I went home and paused it on a dozen different frames to nerd out over how many enemies he dispatches between reloads. It’s that blend of gun-fu precision and pragmatic brutality that makes it feel both cinematic and game-adjacent.

From the perspective of someone who enjoys the flow of combat mechanics, the catacombs and arena-style battles in 'John Wick: Chapter 2' feel like boss fights. They ramp up difficulty by constraining space and adding unpredictability — different opponents, weapons, and surfaces. I always watch those on a second screen while playing a stealth-or-combat-heavy game, because I end up comparing tactical choices: would I duck here, use the shotgun, or try to disarm? The films are generous with those instantaneous decisions, and they reward repeat viewings; you catch new improvisations every time. Also, the incorporation of cultural touches — martial arts forms, weapon-specific flourishes, and the continental etiquette — is like unlocking lore in a well-crafted franchise.

Finally, 'John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum' brings some of the series’ most inventive scenarios, especially the Continental breakdown and Sofia’s dog fight. As a fan who reads comics and plays RPGs, I appreciate how each fight doesn’t just prove Wick’s physical capability but also advances worldbuilding. The fights are narrative checkpoints: you learn rules, witness consequences, and see alliances shift. In the end, the best scenes are the ones that make me want to rewatch, take notes, and imagine how I’d tackle them if they were levels in my favorite action game — and that persistent urge to replay is a big reason I keep recommending these films to friends.

There's something about the first punch that always hooks me — and in the 'John Wick' movies there are so many punches that actually feel earned. For me, the Red Circle nightclub scene in 'John Wick' still ranks at the top. I caught it on a cramped weeknight screening with my roommate years ago, and we both leaned forward when the music swallowed the visuals. The tight camera work, beam of red light, and the way Keanu moves through bodies with that almost metronomic rhythm made each shot and knife swipe feel purposeful. It’s a masterclass in mixing style with clear spatial geography: you always know where John is in relation to his enemies, which makes the chaos readable and thrilling. I love how each weapon shift — pistol to knife to bare hands — reads like a short chapter in a cold-blooded manual on efficient violence.

Another sequence I go back to is the catacombs and gladiatorial-style brawl in 'John Wick: Chapter 2'. That whole section leans into the idea that Wick is an almost mythic figure walking through layers of the world that have rules of their own. The staging there feels like a dance in a tomb, every movement syncopated to sound design and lighting. What really sticks is the mixing of close-quarters hand-to-hand with brutal, quick gunwork — the transitions are so smooth that it feels like watching a single organism move. I also have to applaud the rooftop/sidewalk chases and the more intimate one-on-one duels across the whole series; they’re different flavors of the same precise brutality.

Finally, 'John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum' has a streak of scenes that I replay when I need a pick-me-up: the hotel-brawl sequences where the Continental’s neutral ground is torn apart, and the encounter where Sofia and her dogs tear into business with a balletic ferocity. That pairing of trained animals and choreographed takedowns felt wildly original on-screen and added a surprising emotional kick. Across all the films, what keeps me watching is how every fight is choreographed for purpose — not just to show skill, but to reveal something about Wick’s mindset and the world’s rules. It’s the tiny touches — a reload in the middle of a scuffle, the way a glance decides an opponent’s fate — that make these scenes linger in my brain long after the credits roll.

I’ve always loved dissecting why certain fight scenes stick with me, and the 'John Wick' series is a delight for that kind of analysis. The sequence in the Red Circle nightclub from 'John Wick' is a textbook example of etho-technique: the filmmakers establish environmental geometry, light cues, and aural pacing to create a choreography that is both cinematic and comprehensible. What fascinates me is how the editing respects sustained motion; there’s a patience in the cuts that lets Keanu Reeves’ economy of movement read clearly. You can see the lineage to samurai cinema and the careful economy of movement in the best kung fu films, but translated into modern urban gunplay.

Another scene that rewards a second look is the tunnel and open-space confrontations in 'John Wick: Chapter 2'. From a technical viewpoint, those fights are a study in shot composition and weapon transition. The camera rarely obscures spatial relationships — a huge part of why the action feels visceral rather than just flashy. The filmmakers trust long takes and deliberate coverage, which allows you to follow the small, cinematic decisions: how Wick repositions to use the environment, how he frames shots so exits are options, how pauses are used to signal a moment of tactical reassessment. There’s also an interesting use of sound — the clack of magazines, the whisper of a knife — which functions almost as a rhythmic counterpoint to the visuals.

In 'John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum', the Continental sequences and the dog-assisted fight scenes stand out as clever narrative-choreography hybrid moments. They aren’t just fights; they show how alliances, rituals, and the code of the world influence combat itself. The dog sequences in particular subvert expectations: animal companions become tools and characters, shifting the emotional register of the violence. From an observer’s perspective, the series excels because it treats violence as a craft: there’s an internal logic to each engagement, and that logic is obeyed. As a cinephile who likes to rewind and trace a stunt beat-by-beat, those layers of discipline and intention are what keep me coming back to these films.