The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious 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 appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
