Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew 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 human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, 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 eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, she gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role 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 utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
