Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer 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 inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's 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 demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, 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, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
