Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant 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 Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), 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 man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations 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 once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
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), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, 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 murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
