Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
