Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director'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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing 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 essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious 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 the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
