Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), 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, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. 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 love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened 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 critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
