The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard 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 nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair 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 Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
