Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back 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 frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling 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 heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie 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), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
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 sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
