The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, 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 murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
