Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend 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 tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
