The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's 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 thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
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.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector 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 longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, 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, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
