Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins 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 character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned 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 entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
