Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas 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 starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment 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 laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
