Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor 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 instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf 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, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, 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 kills her housemate, drives a wedge in 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 increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
