Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago 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 scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle 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 phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond 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 straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — 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 (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside 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 Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, 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 swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends 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 largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
