Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found 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 black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds 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), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between 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 aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
