The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated 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 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 heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped 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, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
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 (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
