Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 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.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director 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 horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious 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 appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, 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 faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
