Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates 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.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven 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 mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. 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 eclectic cast.
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), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, 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 transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
