Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled 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 survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
