The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors 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, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (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 diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film 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 colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
