Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found 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 jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up 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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious 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 throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized 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 beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
