Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring 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 must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew 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 — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful acting with 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 Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
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 darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away 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 masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, 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.