Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's 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 demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation 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 harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, 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. One of African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
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 sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
