Everyone keeps asking if he’s back—and he’s thinking that he is—but to celebrate his 10th anniversary, John Wick actually will be returning to theaters on November 3rd and 6th. So, there’s no better time to talk about one of the most totemic action flicks released during my lifetime, one that both raised the bar and set the standard for every contemporary action movie in its wake.

A revenge thriller built around a past-his-prime movie star, sprinkled with character actors, and bolstered by a hammy European antagonist—portrayed by the great Michael Nyqvist, who doesn’t get nearly enough credit for his contributions to this franchise—Chad Stahelski’s John Wick, on paper, presents itself as precisely the kind of movie it was rescued from being: a disposable actioner unceremoniously dumped on streaming—or in this film’s case, into Redboxes and On Demand services—never to be heard from again. But with its first brilliantly staged set piece, John Wick solidifies itself as not yet another entry in a long line of tired, lazy shoot-‘em-ups but as a methodical elevation of the genre.

Had this first action scene not worked, the entirety of John Wick would have crumbled to dust and blown into obscurity. The first twenty-five minutes is a deliberately paced setup showcasing John Wick’s ability to kick the maximum amount of ass, with the mere mention of his name causing grown men to nearly piss themselves on screen. He is known as the “Baba Yaga,” or Boogeyman, a legendary assassin who completed an impossible mission that allowed him to leave his life of contract killing behind and retire to an idyllic life of suburban husbandhood. But when a group of Russian punks breaks into his home, kills the dog his recently deceased wife bought as a parting gift, and steals his beloved 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429, this titular badass earns his reputation on-screen.

As the saying goes, showing is better than telling. With prolonged takes and clean cuts, Chad Stahelski demonstrates not only that John Wick is everything the movie has been telling us he is but also that Stahelski is a director worth watching. A stuntman turned filmmaker, Stahelski values the work of stunt performers and translates that appreciation onto the silver screen as a labor of love for his former craft. Of course, stunt work can only get you so far, and Stahelski knows this, which is why he teamed with a man he used to do stunt work for: the legendary Keanu Reeves.

To say that Reeves is perfectly cast in this role would be as much of an understatement as saying John Wick is good at his job. Reeves’ competency with firearms and willingness to train in various forms of combat to realistically play a contract killer with John’s reputation does as much for the film as his appearance. While the rest of the action heroes of his generation are impervious, super-powered gods, portrayed by actors who would rather die than admit to their steroid regimens, Keanu’s pudgy-stomached, pigeon-toed Wick is more compelling and believable than any of them.

With every tactical reload and perfectly timed judo throw, Reeves exudes verisimilitude as Wick—no matter how many henchmen he mows down. Racking up a staggering 77 bodies in his first cinematic outing, John Wick is as much a slasher villain as he is an action hero, one who would put Freddy, Jason, Michael, and all the rest to shame. The sheer fact that Stahelski subjects the audience to one man killing that many people without boring us through repetition is an impressive feat in and of itself, made all the more impressive by the fact that he does it three more times.

Stahelski and company upping the ante with each installment makes it easy to view John Wick as trite in retrospect. There are certainly no set pieces as staggering as the catacombs sequence in Chapter 2, the knife fight in Parabellum, or anything from Chapter 4. Still, I find myself appreciating the surgical nature of the first John Wick to this day. Long before the bulletproof suits and convoluted mythology of the John Wick universe, the simple, bare-bones construction of the first film was more than enough to shock and thrill audiences out of the Bourne-influenced, shaky-cam slog of early-to-mid-aughts action movies.

Before Wick even reveals his true nature, Stahelski stealthily hints that there’s more to Reeves' seemingly ordinary, everyman protagonist. The way Wick holds onto the pen after signing the delivery papers for the dog—in case he needs to defend himself from a delivery driver that is more than she seems—or the way Wick wears his watch with the face on the inside of his wrist, a common practice for military operatives, are details that can only be appreciated on repeat viewings. I should know; I’ve watched this movie more times than John Wick fires a gun in it.

Wick—and Reeves' pitch-perfect portrayal of him—is only part of why this movie has endured. After the unforgettable home invasion set piece, John Wick reveals its depth with a simple question posed by a police officer called to Wick’s gorgeous modern home on a noise complaint: “You, uh, workin’ again?” Jimmy asks with the nonchalance of an old acquaintance, despite the dead body in Wick’s hallway. The banality of this interaction, followed by Wick calling for a “dinner reservation,” introduces a labyrinthine underworld governed by codes and conduct. Those gold coins buried in Wick’s basement are not just a means of capital but tokens exchanged for services in an organized abyss steeped in ritual.

This brings us to The Continental, the pièce de résistance of John Wick's worldbuilding: a luxurious hotel that serves as a haven for hitmen and criminals, where no “business” can be conducted. Few things are as effortlessly cool as a man with a code, and John Wick offers an entire community. The film’s criminals function like Greek gods, their conflicts personal and often petty, unfolding in the same nightclubs we party in, their existence largely unnoticed by the public. They walk among us but know of worlds we can never access.

This combination of elevated choreography and expansive lore made John Wick an instant and enduring classic that still packs a punch ten years later. Almost overnight, action cinema reoriented itself around John Wick's success—modest at the box office but booming on the same streaming platforms it was nearly relegated to. Suddenly, stuntmen like Sam Hargrave (Extraction) and John Wick’s uncredited co-director, David Leitch (Deadpool 2, Bullet Train, The Fall Guy), got their shot at directing, highlighting the tireless work of Hollywood’s often-overlooked heroes.

It feels like a dam is about to break in recognizing stunt performers, and while that elusive Oscar category has yet to materialize—even casting directors only recently got their due—John Wick will be remembered as the movie that kickstarted the movement, right in the head.