Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming 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 ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, 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 progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
