Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure 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 crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, she gives a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing 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 comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger 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 praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
