The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic 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 role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting 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 spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. 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 detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
