Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, 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 Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair 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 during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
