Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role 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 inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director'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 proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. 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. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
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 takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders 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 undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
