Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
