Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
