Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place 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 a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector 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 transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter 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 influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
