Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, 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 descendant 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 tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie 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 diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, 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 plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
