Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled 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 funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor'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 standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
