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The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take 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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Artistic Goals

Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.

Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.