Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship 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 performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
