Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming 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 the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered 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, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director 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 scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, 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, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, 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 mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
