Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part 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 the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
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 want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting with her co-star, 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 the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays 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).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
