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Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.

From Zamunda to Brooklyn

Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered 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 observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Artistic Goals

Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet 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 all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, 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 story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.