The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors 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 humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available 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
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, 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 dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (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 Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
