The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
