30 Years Ago, Wes Craven and the Comedy Legend Joined Forces for an Forgotten Cinematic Jewel
Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, 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 descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains 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 police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie 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 film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. 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 applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.