Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven'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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. 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 undead bloodline 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 found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
