The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, 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.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image 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). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
