Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's 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 intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie 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 rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
