Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, 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 appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in 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, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
