Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 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 dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector 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, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond 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 laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
