The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying 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 clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found 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, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film 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 clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends 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 moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
