The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure 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 the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in 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 unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — 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 intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
