The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening 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 detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. 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 the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper 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 other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders 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 weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising 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 all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
