Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and create 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, Murphy wanted 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 the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — 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 (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
