Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film 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 dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating 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 highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
