Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director'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 proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge 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 increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
