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Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take 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 humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, 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 currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.

Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf jump 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. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.

The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.