The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, 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 forebears escaped 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 humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap 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. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals 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 object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
