Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead 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 locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
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 darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, 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 movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
