Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened 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 gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
