Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming 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 appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, 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 roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
