Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, 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 ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 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 dash of humor with your scares 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 drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. 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 praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
