Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project 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 pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, 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 skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, 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 unforgettable performances.
