Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project 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 pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims 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 eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
