Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring 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 little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
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 (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
