The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. 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 demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform 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.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting 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 classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
