The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role 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 Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure 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 vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
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 scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, 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 sink deeper and deeper 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 employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
