Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 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 spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
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 create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash 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 assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’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 employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict 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 story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.