The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept 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 seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, 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, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda 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 ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part 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).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
