Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond 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 comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, 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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing 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).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
