Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting 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 must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative 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 transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
