Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant 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 tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring 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 little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, 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 movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.