The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
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 (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. 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 film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, 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. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
