Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take 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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart 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 mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates 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 tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
