Ryan Coogler's latest 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 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.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears 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 humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need 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 pulled to New York City. 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 tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor'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 standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding 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 everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
