Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving 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 somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming 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 skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
