Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir 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 tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 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 little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, 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 scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, 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 been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
