Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry 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 masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
