The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds 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 (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, 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 housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, 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 overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
