The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology 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 proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming 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 (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, 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 packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception 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 sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
