Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight 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 Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
