The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, 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 classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), 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 human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away 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 disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
