The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant 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 humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper 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 employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
