Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin 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 African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. 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 subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature leap 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 Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in 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 diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair 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 elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills 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 story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
