🔗 Share this article

Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.

From Zamunda to Brooklyn

Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda 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.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie 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 dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film 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 Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.

As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.