Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning 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 want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals 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.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming 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 appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
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 takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
