Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry 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 horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing 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 generally sluggish start. But when 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 dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, 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. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
