Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
