The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, 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 want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
