The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring 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 want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part 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 the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
