Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into 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 film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn 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 survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run 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, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions 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 Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo 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 the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, 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 reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
