There’s a version of Black as Night that could’ve been fantastic: a sharp, angry, bloody little horror film about colorism, class, and the way systems feed on the most vulnerable—set in post-Katrina New Orleans, no less. That movie exists in the idea of Black as Night. Unfortunately, what we actually get feels more like a CW pilot that forgot it wasn’t allowed to be this shallow about its own themes.
It’s the horror equivalent of buying a book because the blurb is incredible, then realizing the inside is just Tumblr quotes and a half-finished outline.
The Premise: Strong Bones, Anemic Execution
On paper, it sounds great:
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15-year-old Shawna, dark-skinned, self-conscious, and living with internalized colorism
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A post-Katrina New Orleans still scarred, literally and figuratively
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Vampires preying on the homeless and addicted in housing projects
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A mother turned vampire
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A charismatic preacher using fangs as a tool of “revolution”
That’s rich material. So rich that watching the movie fumble it for 87 minutes feels borderline offensive. It says it wants to talk about self-hate, exploitation, and systems of oppression… and then handles those ideas like someone carrying a priceless vase wrapped in one paper towel.
Shawna: Great Concept, Kidnapped by a Cheesier Movie
Shawna should be an incredible protagonist: a dark-skinned Black teen who feels invisible, overshadowed by lighter-skinned peers, and battling with her own reflection. Her insecurity about her skin tone is one of the few refreshingly honest things in the film—especially when she talks about how she used to wish for lighter skin. That’s painful, real stuff.
But the movie treats it like a personality quirk instead of a driving conflict. Her body image and colorism issues pop up just enough to remind you they exist, then get shoved aside for quippy one-liners and Scooby-Doo vampire antics with the squad.
Shawna’s arc should be something like:
“I learned to see myself as powerful, not in spite of my skin, but in it.”
Instead it’s more like:
“I killed a vampire preacher and got slightly more confident. Also my crush kinda respects me now, I guess? Character development complete.”
It’s like the script took the “dark skin self-hate” subplot, pinned it to the corkboard, and then wandered off to focus on whether Chris, the pretty boy, is impressed by her vampire hunting.
The Squad: Diet Monster Hunters
Shawna doesn’t hunt alone. She puts together a little teen vampire-hunting team:
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Pedro – her best friend, Latino, comic relief, crush on her, soft-hearted.
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Chris – the handsome light-skinned dude she crushes on, blandly chivalrous.
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Granya – rich, goth-adjacent white girl with a flair for drama and way too much enthusiasm for the undead.
They’re supposed to be the charming, ragtag crew that makes you think “Yes, I would absolutely watch four seasons of this on streaming.” Instead, they feel like someone clicked “Random Party Members” in a character generator.
Pedro is the only one with anything resembling emotional weight—he feels like a real person every third scene or so. Chris is more haircut than human. Granya is a caricature of “weird rich white girl who wants to cosplay poverty and danger,” but the film never leans hard enough into that to actually critique her.
Most of their interactions are snappy in that “Netflix teen movie” way, but the banter feels pasted over major structural holes. It’s like someone decided if they threw enough jokes at the audience, no one would notice how undercooked the story is. Spoiler: we noticed.
Vampires as Metaphor: Great Idea, Weak Bite
The vampires in Black as Night are clearly meant to be more than just monsters:
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They target the homeless, the addicted, and the marginalized.
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They haunt a housing project wrecked by Katrina and neglect.
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They’re tied to systemic abandonment and generational pain.
All of that is begging to be explored. This should be a vicious allegory about how society feeds on the poor, how trauma makes people prey, how institutions look the other way while the vulnerable disappear.
Instead, we get a villain reveal that feels like a watered-down YA twist.
Babineaux: Preacher, Revolutionary, Ted Talk with Fangs
Babineaux, played by Keith David (who deserves better, always), is the charismatic preacher behind the whole vampire operation. He’s using vampirism as a twisted form of empowerment for the oppressed—“Take back what’s yours, but with bloodsucking and slightly more eyeliner.”
On paper, again, intriguing. In execution, it’s like someone tried to mash together Killmonger and a prosperity gospel pastor and forgot to actually write the ideology.
We’re told his plan is:
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Make an army of vampires from the castoffs of society
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Use them to reclaim power
But the movie never really digs into the morality or consequences of that. It doesn’t wrestle with whether some oppressed people might willingly choose monstrous power. It doesn’t show his followers wrestling with the cost. It’s just: Babineaux bad, Shawna good, moving on.
And when you cast Keith David, a man whose voice alone could convince people to follow him into hell, and then give him this little to work with? That’s not just bad writing; that’s a horror crime.
Mom Issues: Emotionally Loaded, Casually Handled
Shawna’s mother, Denise, is addicted and living in the decrepit Ombreaux project. She’s one of the first humans Shawna knows who gets turned, which should be heartbreaking and complicated.
Imagine:
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A daughter who already feels abandoned, now watching her mother become literally monstrous.
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The question of whether she can save her or must destroy her.
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The realization that systemic neglect chewed her mother up long before the fangs arrived.
Instead, Denise’s arc is treated like a sad bullet point. She becomes one more plot button: “Motivate Shawna.” The film barely gives space to what that would feel like. There’s an emotional scene or two, but they don’t land because the groundwork is shallow and quickly undercut by the movie’s need to keep things brisk, quippy, and “fun.”
It wants to be a breezy vampire adventure and a serious exploration of trauma. You can do both—but not by speed-running the trauma.
New Orleans: Beautiful Backdrop, Barely Used
Post-Katrina New Orleans should be a character in itself:
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The scars of the storm
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The neglect
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The tension between tourism glitter and local pain
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The complex Black history of the city
The film nods at all of this—mentions of Katrina, visual reminders of decay—but never truly engages with it. It’s background aesthetic, a vibe. The setting could almost be swapped out for “Generic Blighted City” and the script would barely change.
When you set your story in a place dripping with unique history and then treat it like a mood filter, it feels lazy at best and exploitative at worst.
The Ending: Toothless Cliffhanger
During the big showdown in Babineaux’s secret-tunnel vampire lair, Shawna uses her mother’s silver locket (subtle) to weaken and kill him, turning him into ash. It’s meant to be empowering and symbolic—her mother’s memory helping her destroy the man exploiting people like her mother.
Then Pedro gets bitten and seemingly dies. But, surprise, final-scene knock at the door: he’s back, immortal, and clearly not entirely human anymore.
Instead of landing as chilling or tragic, it plays like weak sequel bait: “Catch us next time on Black as Night 2: Pedro’s Still Around!” Except no one asked for that. And the film hasn’t earned the emotional weight needed for his “death” or “return” to really hurt or excite.
Final Verdict: All Theme, No Depth
Black as Night wants credit for tackling big issues: colorism, addiction, homelessness, systemic racism, post-disaster neglect. It sprinkles them generously over a generic teen-vampire plot and seems to hope that’s enough to make it profound.
It isn’t.
What we get is:
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A great premise wasted on shallow writing
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A strong lead stranded in a script that won’t fully commit to her story
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A city reduced to set dressing
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A villain whose ideology is more PowerPoint than revolution
If you squint, you can see the sharper, braver film this could have been. Instead, Black as Night is mostly style over substance, message over meaning—a horror movie where the scariest thing is how thoroughly it wastes its own potential.
At least the vampires are on brand: they feed on the vulnerable. The film just happens to feed on a really good idea and leave the bones.
