Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring 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 essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors 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 film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved 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 canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
