Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore 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 proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.