The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, 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 ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on 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 nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. 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 eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’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 the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, 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 roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews 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 movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
