The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening 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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region 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 on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap 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. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. 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 film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.