Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived 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.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, 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 forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, 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 most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
