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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching 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 ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Similar to 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, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir 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 (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Artistic Goals

Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film 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 relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, 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 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 utilized by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.

As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, 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 overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.