The director's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated 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 a cue 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 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 humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 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 Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring 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 ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
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 darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
