Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf 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. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all 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 clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
