The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take 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 descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
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.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses 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 kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy 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. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role 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).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
