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. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
