Ryan Coogler's latest 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. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further 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 the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
