Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
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 Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) 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, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship 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 gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part 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 the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
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 darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
