Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among 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 insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors 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 respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 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.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, 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 results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
