Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven'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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves 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.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen 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 laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
