Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, 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 horror reputation 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). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
