Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when 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 detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious 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 skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
