The director's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory 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 ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered 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 leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers 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 everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
