Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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 simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins 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 detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates 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 the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with seduction, 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 movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
