Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead 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 heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
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 make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face 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 macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie 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, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. 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 potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, 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 all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
