The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf 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 Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing 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).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all 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 disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
