Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure 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 found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role 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 utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
