The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame 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 want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap 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. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image 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). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role 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).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
