The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back 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 Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — 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 crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized 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 scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills 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 undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement 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 influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
