Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, 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 leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
