Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off 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 horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, 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 everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
