The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking 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 phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
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 hybrid genre film (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 defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, 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 relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy 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 sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
