Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
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 need a dash of humor with your frights 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 traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood 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 create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo 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 standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. 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 received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
