Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing 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 defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
