The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) 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 transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director 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 horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all 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 masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
