The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives 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 (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds 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 crime-drama edge to the story. 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 his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
