Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears 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 humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized 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 fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film 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 beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.