Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy 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 descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
