Ryan Coogler's latest 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. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, 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 most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine 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 take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders 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, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between 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 aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
