Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue 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 heir 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
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 want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director 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). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict 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.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
