The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure 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 Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict 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 progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. 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 reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
