30 Years Ago, the Horror Maestro and the Comedy Legend Teamed Up for an Forgotten Cinematic Jewel
Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 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 spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom 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.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching 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 other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away 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 make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. 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 viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.