Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic 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 stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager 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 comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates 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).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. 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 weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. 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 Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
