Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears 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 funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
