Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back 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 scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
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 Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film 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 pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, 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 in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. 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 horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.