The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven'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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 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 Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
