The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival 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 homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) 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 human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing 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 comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
