The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives 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 aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew 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 morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
