Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin 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 interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official 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 transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, 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 swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
