James Whale's Frankenstein (1931)

Released in 1931, James Whale’s take on Mary Shelley’s novel (via a stage adaptation) may have been the first movie to come with a pre-recorded trigger warning: “A word of friendly warning… It is one of the strangest tales ever told. It deal with the two great mysteries of creation: life and death. […] It will thrill you, it may shock you, it might even horrify you. So if any of you feel you don’t care to subject your nerves to such a strain, now is your chance to, well, we’ve warned you…”

Indeed it begins in macabre mode with grave robbery and proceeds apace to electro-galvanism and rogue science: cutting edge technology cloaked in gothic ruins (an abandoned watch tower in Germany). Nearly a century later the production design remains impressive, Whale’s lean, angular direction has plenty of snap, and Boris Karloff (credited here as a question mark) imbues the monster with no little pathos. It may not be scary to modern eyes but at just over an hour it remains a compelling piece of story telling, an antique classic that lives on well past its natural expiration point.

All of my life, I was in love with monsters; this is a fact. I discovered Frankenstein through the movies—like most people do—and was enraptured by Karloff and Whale’s creation.

Guillermo del Toro

My mother took me to the local library at six-years-old to watch clips from Universal monster films. I remember the sound of the projector. The burning mill sequence at the end of James Whale’s Frankenstein made me want to become a director.

Sean Baker