The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears 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, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
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 want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), 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, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious 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 throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
