The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving 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 when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’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 the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
