The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel 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 witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating 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 appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film 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 viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
