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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 balancing all three while honoring 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 need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.

A Tale of Two Cities

Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays 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).

Supernatural Romance

When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, 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 found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.