Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director'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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious 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 standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
