Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, 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, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take 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 Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling 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.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding 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 everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
