Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian 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 continuation of his vampire lineage 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 vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump 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 starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie 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 hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious 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 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).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, 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 movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
