Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins 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, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival 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 ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers 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 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 overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
Lars is a holistic wellness coach and writer passionate about crystal healing and mindfulness practices.