The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning 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.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time 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 highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
