Ryan Coogler's latest project 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 memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven'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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position 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 now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation 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 nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump 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 kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time 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 ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.