Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame 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 a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills 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 faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, 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 movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
