The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin 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 African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming 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 skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering 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 impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
