Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
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 discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, 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 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 delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
