Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory 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 Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew 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 man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, 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 Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
