The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled 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, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom 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 tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
