Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue 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 descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 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 Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film 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 moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
