Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening 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 ancestors 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 funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 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
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving 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 once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, 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 undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. 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 Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
