The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall 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 Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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 humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago 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 Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching 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 elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict 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 increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
