Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir 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 Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 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
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge 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 story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
