Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
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 fled 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 thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen 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 scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry 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 aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
