Above are three beautiful posters for the horror movie Dracula, which premiered today in 1931. They’re usually credited to Karoly Grosz, but all we know for sure is that he oversaw their creation. He was Universal Pictures’ advertising art director, helped produce at least seven posters to promote the film, and had final say over each. He could have painted these, but a subordinate also could have, or they could be collaborative. In the past we thought the middle poster was signed “GB” at its lower right, but now we aren’t sure. However they were produced they’re great, among the most memorable U.S. promos ever distributed.
Dracula is a movie that—admit it—you’ve never seen. Or maybe you have. If so, apologies. But if not, this post is for you. Dracula isn’t the first vampire movie, but it’s possibly the most important. There are Nosferatu backers out there, and you don’t want to tangle with them. They’ll just say, “Which came first? Case closed!” We’re going to sidestep the debate. In fact, we already did by using the word “possibly”. So—Dracula. Should you spend your hard-won free time on it?
The film’s motifs have been bitten everywhere ranging from video games to The Simpsons, so parts of it may amuse you, but if you strap on your 1930s brain you’ll realize how macabre it must have been for audiences of a century ago, as Bela Lugosi’s Count Dracula arranges through his solicitor Renfield to travel from Transylvania to England, where he has leased Carfax Abbey and plans to ravage the country. Everyone is prey, from little girls to the bedazzled Lucy Weston (Lucy Westenra in the novel), but of course his obsession is with Mina Seward (Mina Harker in the novel). You know the story.
Dracula author Bram Stoker died in 1912. His widow Florence signed off on a stage play of the novel, and it was unveiled to the public in 1924. By 1927 it was on Broadway, where the starring role had been taken by Bela Lugosi. He was therefore a natural choice for the screen adaptation, which director Tod Browning expanded from the stage version by adding more scope from the novel. But even with a widened narrative it’s still a 1930s movie—it’s static, stagily acted, has no soundtrack apart from the credits, and particularly absent are the musical stings that are so much a part of horror cinema—how can you be scared unless the music tells you to?
But we think it’s scary because—well, it’s scary. Renfield is mysteriously summoned to a cobwebby old castle on some wuthering height and there are hovering bats, massive spiderwebs, and scuttling armadillos. That’s scary. The wolves howling in the distance are scary. Count Dracula and his mascara enhanced stare are scary. Seeing Renfield crawl across the floor toward a helpless Mina is scary. Dracula definitely doesn’t suck. In 2026 it merely requires good faith suspension of disbelief. If you’re willing to do that the chills will come, and the film will be time well spent. And if you disagree—there’s always Nosferatu.
