Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw 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 ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
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 little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
