Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, 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 kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
