Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival 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 ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance 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 Nightmare on Elm Street 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). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing 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 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 police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, 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 overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
