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 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, 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 procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight 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 the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
