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Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.

A Tale of Two Cities

Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel 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 witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Artistic Goals

Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance alongside 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 Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Dark Seduction

When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills 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 undermine her beliefs.

As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.