The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir 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 position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. 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 clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, 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 narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing 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 enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
