The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character 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 take 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 Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, 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.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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 black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry 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 real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash 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 opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
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 takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
