The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie 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 colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
