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 seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven'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 humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for 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 eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
