Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon 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 want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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 observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, 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. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
