Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins 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, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals 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 opens up to its assets — 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 (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’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 humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film 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 largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
