The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the roots 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, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star 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 heir 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 tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 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 scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
