Even before Tracy Jordan was reminding us that “Freaky deakies need love too,” there was Eddie Murphy as Maximillian crashing an unmanned boat into the “Port of Brooklyn” (better known as Red Hook’s Brooklyn Terminal) in 1995’s Vampire in Brooklyn to seek out a very specific piece of flesh. The kind that exists only in said borough: a masochist with a fetish for coming alive at night. That of Rita Veder (Angela Bassett), who Max speaks of much the way Akeem does at the outset of Coming to America when he explains, “My only chance was to find the one known offspring of our tribe that had been born in a foreign land–a woman somewhere in this place called Brooklyn.” Which is where the ship filled with dead bodies crashing into the docks comes in. Right into Silas (John Witherspoon) and Julius’ (Kadeem Hardison) “watching” post–where the only thing they’re watching is bad TV before it gets destroyed in the ship’s wake. Julius quickly flees the scene with the excuse that he has to meet his girl, leaving Silas with the task of investigating what he assumes is a DUI (because, of course, only in Brooklyn would it be assumed that a captain would get drunk enough to crash his boat–drinking being the primary recreational activity in that town and all). The appearance of a growling wolf seemingly accounts for all the carnage onboard before Silas sees Max’s shadow transform from a dog’s silhouette to that of a man’s.
As the police arrive on the scene, we meet Rita for the first time, along with her partner, Detective Justice (Allen Payne). Still reeling from the death of her mother, a paranormal researcher deemed mentally ill by the end of her life, Rita has been distracted and disorganized in her work of late, something Detective Justice apologizes on her behalf for, seemingly the only one with any sympathy for what she’s gone through (for it’s true, in Brooklyn, no one cares about your plight, only how you can service them in the art of the hustle that will make them money). With the bizarre nature of the case, she unknowingly becomes triggered by Max’s presence in the borough, having nightmaric visions of herself as some rabid form of human (in a scene directed to eerie perfection as only Wes Craven could deliver).
Meanwhile, as the ship is being investigated, Julius, caught up in a monetary dispute with two men armed named Tony and Anthony (which prompts Julius to remark on his name and face confusion to them, “All you goombahs look alike to me”), is saved by Max, who needs him to serve a higher purpose as his “ghoul” a.k.a. on-call decomposing lackey. Dropping some of his own blood onto Julius’ tongue, anyone walking by them would simply shrug. For this is garden variety weirdness in Brooklyn. As one of the “goombahs” phrases it, “[There are] some fuckin’ wackos in this town.” Understatement of the century (both twentieth and twenty-first), to be sure. But Julius is nonetheless horrified by Max’s action, screaming, “I’m getting my ass the hell out of Brooklyn. I’m going to the islands, somewhere peaceful.” Of course, he never does make it, too busy with the tasks of Max’s very busy night, determined to make Rita his before the next full moon lest he perish.
As is the usual Eddie Murphy way, the adoption of multiple personas must occur. As it is also the case of anyone who has lived in Brooklyn for a number of years needing to go through various reinventions (usually by changing neighborhoods) in order to spare themselves some of the embarrassment of their vampiric nighttime antics. For Max’s purposes, he is an Italian gangster (really driving home the point that Brooklyn is a haven for illegal activity and bastardized cuisine) and a preacher (at one point managing to convince his congregation as he tries to persuade Rita more than anyone, “Evil is good!”–definitely the Brooklyn mantra), slipping into both skins as a means to manipulate Rita. Manipulation, in fact, is a key aspect of the New York way, so determined is everyone to make you believe that the sacrifice you’re making is worth being in the cult. That you just need to get “used to it” in order to reap the “rewards”–as Max essentially tells Rita after biting her neck and insisting that she complete the transformation by biting another victim. It all sounds very “join us” in a way that no one other than a Brooklyn-born person like Murphy could understand. And with the script written by his older brother, Charles Q. Murphy (with co-writers Michael Lucker and Chris Parker), the arcane understanding of the Brooklyn cult–vampire-like indeed–comes to complete fruition by the movie’s end.
At one point, as Julius drives him to the nightclub, a close-up on the New York license plate “RIP” is an especial portent for anyone who thinks they’re going to get out of Brooklyn alive. For some part of them is guaranteed to have died even if they do. Yet, Max, as though speaking in the voice of Brooklyn, soothes, “Pain is an underrated experience but it happens to be my specialty and like it or not, you belong to me now.”
And sure, Julius embraces being a Brooklyn ghoul, even going the extra mile of pandering, engaging his master in conversation. When asked why he doesn’t simply bite Rita and get it over with, Max replies, “She has to give herself to me voluntarily” (just like the people that move to Brooklyn thinking it will be a great idea). Julius balks, “Hey, this is Brooklyn, baby. Don’t nobody give up shit unless you got some cold cash or a hot slug.” For despite being in the east, Brooklyn remains the Wild West–where laws of decorum go out the window most particularly at night.
