The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie 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 kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned 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 Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
