Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue 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 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 humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. 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 undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays 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 the stars appear together, the movie 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 intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
