The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, 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 descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
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 need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry 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 undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. 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 sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
