The director's recent project may have breathed new life into 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 seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing 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 currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch 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 drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood 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 keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds 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 (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment 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 Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
