Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance 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 relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), 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 man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (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 wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains 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 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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays 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 the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, 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 cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
