Ryan Coogler's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening 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 ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run 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 tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, 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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo 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 standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.