Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, 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 heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline 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 ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’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 other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills 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 beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
