Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond 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, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once 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 detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix 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 delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
