Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. 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 movie 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 dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming 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 macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — 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 intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened 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 Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
