Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors 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. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor'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 highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. 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 tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
