The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. 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 honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 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.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. 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 extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond 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 laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders 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 undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
