The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), 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 extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing 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 film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
