Why You Should Watch Netflix’s ‘The House of Flowers’ (La Casa de las Flores)

Through humour, over-the-top drama, and a fabulous aesthetic, the modern telenovela “The House of Flowers” revolutionises outdated Latino concepts of gender, class, and sexuality, and thus should be on everyone’s watchlist.

Like most people, I have spent the last six months alternating between panicking about the current state of the world and binge-watching television in order to forget it all. This led me to discover the Netflix original series “The House of Flowers” (“La Casa de las Flores” is its original Spanish title). Although the series was a roaring success in its home country of Mexico, as well as earning some well-deserved fame throughout Latin America and Spain, not many outside of its Spanish-speaking audience know about it. Hence, this article.

“The House of Flowers” opens with a suicide. Stay with me. This dark comedy-drama follows an upper-class Mexican family and the secrets that are unravelled after discovering the body of their father’s mistress. The title refers to the two businesses, a flower shop and a cabaret, which are at the centre of both the series and the dysfunctional dynamic of the De La Mora family. In all its hilarity and grandeur, the show features telenovela legend Veronica Castro in her first role in a decade, along with some of the most celebrated actors of Latin America and Spain. With only three series, consisting each of a dozen 30-minute-long episodes, “The House of Flowers” is an addictive watch which does not require a huge time commitment. Instead, you will likely finish it in a day or two.

So, why should you watch it? First of all, “The House of Flowers” is beautiful – literally. The production value is unparalleled to most telenovelas, with the costume and set design meticulously curated in order to create a unique and remarkable aesthetic. Honestly, if a show in which episodes are titled after a different flower and its meaning, and the opening sequence is an animated surrealist family portrait, does not appeal to you, then I do not know what will. The glorious outfits, paired with a soundtrack consisting of Latin America’s greatest hits, will make you fall in love with the show’s characters, or at least the actors who play them. 

Most importantly, as the first “millennial telenovela,” “The House of Flowers'' modernises the genre, preserving Latin American cultural and artistic traditions while portraying narratives which speak to younger, more progressive audiences. The show features gay, bisexual, transgender, and disabled characters at its forefront, and challenges Latino stereotypes of gender, class, and race. The creator, Manolo Caro, is an expert in taking archetypal storylines and updating them to reflect the diversity of the current world in a natural and authentic way (I thoroughly recommend checking out some of his other work if you like THOF, including the upcoming Netflix mini-series “Someone Has to Die”). The series is a celebration of women and the LGBTQ+ community, but it also depicts the particular struggles that these groups face in a society like Mexico’s, one that is so deeply conservative, sexist, and concerned with appearances and reputation. “The House of Flowers” did what I – a queer Latina woman – thought was impossible: it made me feel completely seen and represented, not as token inside of a white liberal narrative, but within the triumphs and shortcomings of my own culture. 

This is not to say that the show is in any way perfect. The series’ biggest controversy concerns the character of Maria José Riquelme, a transgender woman who is unfortunately played by Paco León, a cisgender man. Although Maria José, as a character, is depicted with respect and depth, this casting decision regrettably perpetuates the view that the trans identity is but a mere costume, and that transgender women are just cis men in dresses and heels. Additionally, the show’s blind character is not only played by an able-bodied actress, but her blindness is utilised as a recurrent joke. Even though there is no excuse for such portrayals, the inclusion of complex queer and disabled main characters in Latino television is nevertheless unprecedented and admirable. 

Narratively, the quality of the writing varies throughout the series, with the second series becoming significantly less focused than the rest. As a series that sets itself to tackle complicated realities through humour, the story struggles at times to find a balance between the serious and the absurd. This is especially evident in the character development, as some characters are explored with great complexity while others become caricatures of themselves or are downright forgotten. I should also mention that “The House of Flowers” might not be the show for you if you are not keen on over-dramatic stories with complicated relationships, borderline unbelievable events, and a person-in-a-coma storyline or two. It is a telenovela after all.

Now that you know all the good, the bad, and the crazy about “The House of Flowers,” I sincerely hope you give it a chance. This show is fun and compelling, with characters you will quickly become invested in, and a touching storyline about a family fighting prejudices in order to love each other better. It is the perfect escape if you want to forget there is a world outside this magnificent Mexican flower shop (or drag-themed cabaret, whichever you prefer). If any of these themes have appealed to you, if you just want to brush-up your Spanish, or if you are looking to add something new to your watchlist, the doors to “The House of Flowers” are open.