Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
