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 early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see 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 New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating 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 throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned 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 clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance 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 rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
