The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back 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 the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for 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 strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead 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 sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. 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 film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
