Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, 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. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a powerful performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, 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 roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius 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 deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
