Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation 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 persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas 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 extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash 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 hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor'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 standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge 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 story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, 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 debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
