Pokey in spots, and Juliette 
Binoche's dye job makes her look like she's auditioning to play Courtney Love, but I rather loved 
The Flight of the Red Balloon, especially since the original film is oh-so-precious. 
Rewatching a scene in which 
Binoche and Song Fang gently argue over the acceptance of a gift in the 
former's apartment, I was struck by how wittily 
Hou pans between the child and the adults; it's like James' 
What Maisie Knew -- this child barely cognizant of what these confused adults are up to; yet there's enough distance between his perceptions and ours that the two women's interactions are regarded quizzically, affectionately (the apartment in which most of the drama 
unspools becomes a fourth main character). As a 
Hou dilettante (I've only loved 
The Flowers of Shanghai and the silent bit in 
Three Times), I accepted the substitution of Paris for Taiwan, and the injection of 
Binoche's starpower into a scenario which under different circumstances might try my patience as much as it did 
Godfrey Cheshire's; if we can accept this beautiful woman as harried to the point of desperation, we can absolve the visual 
didacticism enforced whenever that damn red balloon bumps against a window. Star power as 
jus' folks.
 
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