Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead 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. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
