The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image 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). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead 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. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie 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 beloved classic, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
Eva de Vries is a passionate book lover and local writer from Eindhoven.
