The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
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 blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part 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 the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. 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 undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
