The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
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 rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further 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 employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
