Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped 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 humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation 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 nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
