Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films 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 caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, 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 descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
