Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching 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 fled 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, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
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 emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature 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. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
