Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom 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 clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — 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 (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
