Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment 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 exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at 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 largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
