Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring 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. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. 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 reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
