Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame 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 a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival 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 inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror 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 exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
