Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon 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 essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges 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 aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.