Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take 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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 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.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda 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.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, 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 sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, 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 movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
