Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
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 arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting 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, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in 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 transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned 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 electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
