Ryan Coogler's recent 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 memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening 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 ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, 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, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
