Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing 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 film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
