Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director'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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove 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 prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
