Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration 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 heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on 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 movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
