Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
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 spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face 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 the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. 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 plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
