The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
