Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen 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 laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict 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 unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.