The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
