The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage 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. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance 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 last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
