Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
