The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable 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.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying 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.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
