I really enjoyed this! It's queer Frankenstein with plants, essentially. Well, Frankenstein if the mad scientist had enough feeling for his creation to at least attempt to raise it, although the general lack of morals is still there because, like dear old Victor, deaths abound in his wake.

I find plant horror in general very appealing, and locating it in those giant Victorian-era glasshouses gives a gorgeous aesthetic sense: a sort of lush, confined fertility deliberately created for show. Gregor's experiments - and his horrific, gravedigging choice of substrate - are suitably demented, but the weird, saccharine mentality that he and his partner show to their beautiful creepy daughter both kind of makes me cackle and shudder all at once. By all means, tuck your botanical monstrosity into bed and insist on her wearing modest clothing in between continually snipping parts off her so she doesn't smother over everything like the invasive that she is! Engage her a governess. That will help her desire to smash in skulls. And don't forget the singing lessons for when she's not crushing little birds between her fists. As I said: demented. But in the best possible way.