Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 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 dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom 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 homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector 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 morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen 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 laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious 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 elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
