Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring 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 little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel 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 dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.