The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 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 frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up 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 (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo 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 highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. 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 mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
