The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory 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 the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears 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 funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official 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, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at 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. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
