Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — 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 (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict 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 progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, 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 beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
