Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago 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 scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror 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 exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up 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 partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, 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. (Seeing 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 humor and fear, even when utilized 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 all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. 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 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 unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
