Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 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
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, 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. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, 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 spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
