Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 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 scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered 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 observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, 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. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, 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 metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, 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 debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
