Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted 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 place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement 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 Black horror, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
