The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore 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 Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. 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 plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
