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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror 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 exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.

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 (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.