By LINDY RYAN
The monsters are back, and they’ve never looked fiercer! Season 2 of THE BOULET BROTHERS’ DRAGULA: TITANS has clawed its way onto screens with a vengeance, summoning fourteen of the most infamous alumni from across the franchise for a twisted family reunion that’s as emotional as it is explosive. RUE MORGUE recently had the opportunity to sit down with Dracmorda and Swanthula to chat about the new season, now airing on Shudder.
For creators Dracmorda and Swanthula, the goal this time around is simple: Go bigger, darker, and more unapologetically queer. The result is a macabre pageant that feels both like a homecoming and a reckoning – a decadent carnival of artistry, ego and blood-soaked beauty that only the Boulets could conjure.
“We wanted to bring the best stars from the show together,” says Swan. “It feels like a twisted six-generation family reunion, which is exactly what we wanted.”
That reunion doesn’t stay cordial for long. The premier kicked off with a devious twist that forced the competitors to decide who among them would face extermination, a sadistic social experiment designed to ignite chaos before the first drop of fake blood even hit the floor.
“We wanted to prod them to show us what they’re really thinking and feeling,” says Swan. “It creates a lot of static right out of the gate.”
For fans, that chaos is the lifeblood of Dragula, a show that fuses drag performance with horror cinema, body art and spectacle. Its founding pillars – filth, horror, and glamour – have always been more than buzzwords. They’re a manifesto. Each represents a boundary to be tested, a binary to be broken, a cultural taboo to be shredded under strobe light and stilettos.
“They’re the tenets the show is built on,” Drac explains. “But [DRAGULA:] TITANS is a different program than Dragula. There are different expectations. We expect to see an evolution of filth, horror, and glamour in a [DRAGULA:] TITANS season.”
If Dragula is initiation, TITANS is ascension and perhaps, damnation. The cast, drawn largely from the show’s fiercest past competitors, returns not as wide-eyed hopefuls but as scarred veterans, each bearing the ghost of seasons past. For some, redemption is on the line; for others, reputation.
“They have more to lose,” says Drac. “Whatever they gained from their original season is seen as a bonus. Anything they lose, they’ll see as failure. That plays out across the season—they’re a lot more emotional this time.”
The Boulets discovered that heightened vulnerability early on.
“We thought they’d be more comfortable since they’ve already been on reality TV,” Drac adds. “But actually, the opposite happened. They’re more self-aware and nervous about how they’ll come off.”
It’s a fascinating contradiction that mirrors the series itself, where monstrous expression and personal exposure are inseparable. Beneath the latex, Dragula has always been a study in masks and what happens when they slip.
Reality TV thrives on artifice, but the Boulet Brothers insist their brand of horror drag demands something rawer – honesty. They want tears with the fake blood, confession alongside the carnage. And yet, the contestants’ second time under the lights carries the kind of performative self-consciousness that defines our media age.
“People come in with preconceived notions of how they want to be seen,” Swan says. “As reality TV producers, we want authenticity, not premeditated self-producing.”
The paradox, of course, is that authenticity in front of a camera is the hardest thing to achieve. Every expression is a performance, every silence an edit waiting to happen.
“There’s a 50/50 chance that fans are going to hate you, or they’re going to hate you for something else,” Drac says. “That’s the risk you take when you come back.”
For Drac, that tightrope act reflects something bigger than reality television: “People aren’t allowed grace or a gray area anymore,” Drac observes. “You’re either a saint or a sinner, good or evil. There’s no in-between, and that’s a problem for our society in general.”
That polarization has only sharpened since Dragula first stalked onto screens. The show’s monstrous, maximalist aesthetic that’s part Grand Guignol, part queer pageantry stands in stark contrast to a world where nuance is disappearing, and creativity itself feels under siege.
With drag performers and queer artists facing growing censorship and hostility across the U.S., DRAGULA: TITANS lands not just as entertainment, but as a declaration. It’s a reminder that art born in the margins doesn’t fade when threatened; it multiplies.
“It’s more important than ever to be louder and more queer and more strange,” insists Drac. “[Drag] comes from the underground. We’re used to fighting against the majority. Even if drag were banned tomorrow, it would just go back underground where it started. We’re comfortable there.”
Swan stands in agreement. “Our show is uniquely positioned to meet this moment. We want people who feel isolated or silenced to see themselves reflected in what we do on the biggest platform we can.”
That ethos has always been the beating heart beneath the black lace of Dragula and DRAGULA: TITANS. While other competition shows seek to polish contestants into marketable brands, the Boulet Brothers invite their artists to revel in imperfection, to find beauty in the grotesque. It’s a kind of horror catharsis, one that celebrates transformation in all its messy, glorious, unfiltered forms.
And yet, for all its blood and bile, THE BOULET BROTHERS’ DRAGULA: TITANS never loses its heart or its humor. Drac and Swan, equal parts ringmasters and reapers, know when to let the tension snap into camp. There’s a joy in their cruelty, a theatricality that keeps the horror playful even as it bites.
“Dragula,” as they’ve often said, “is not about death; it’s about resurrection.” Season 2 of DRAGULA: TITANS takes that credo literally, resurrecting old rivalries, old wounds, and the old ghosts of fame and failure to see what still bleeds.
The Boulet Brothers wouldn’t have it any other way. “It’s hard to suppress a show with the kind of spirit ours has,” Drac says, the grin in his voice floating through. “Bring it on.”
