Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
