The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration 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 forebears fled 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 humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
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 instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage 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 vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, 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 relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays 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 the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
