Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation 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 persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.