Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation 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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie 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 Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
