The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director'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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming 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 elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success 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 electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.