Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving 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 character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found 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, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
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 hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, 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 suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
