The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement 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 African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.