Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 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 frights 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 the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure 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 crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation 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, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
