Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir 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 Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame 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 want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. 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 undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
