Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, 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, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing 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 frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
