Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw 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 escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains 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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
