The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie 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, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. 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 film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
