Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders 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 weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
