Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration 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 heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped 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, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper 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 Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all 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 make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
