Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation 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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring 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 discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
