🔗 Share this article

The director's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films 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.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.

Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. 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 love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.

As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser 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 got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.