Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened 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 cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
