Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening 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 forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves 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 balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found 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 jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success 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 spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
