Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
