The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening 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 ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
