The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), 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 transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge 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 story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
