Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, 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 essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
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 procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role 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 utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders 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 beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
