30 Years Ago, Wes Craven and Eddie Murphy Collaborated for an Underrated Horror Masterpiece
Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position 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 Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror 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 film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all 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 weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations 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 suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between 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 delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.