The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 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
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), 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 kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals 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 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 (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding 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 hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger 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 received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
