The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take 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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
