The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. 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 tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
