Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring 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 ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
