Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (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 defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation 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 earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
