Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into 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, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted 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 place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film 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 make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — 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 praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead 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. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance 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 canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
