The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue 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 ancestors 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, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor'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 the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
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 becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie 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 reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
