The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like 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 mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair 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 throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders 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 increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
