Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
