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. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further 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 utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything 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 clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, 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 overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
