The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven'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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want 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), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure 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 sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders 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, featuring 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 teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
