The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching 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 ancestors 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 all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival 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 found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), 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 morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film 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 kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.