The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors 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, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), 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 locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage 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 jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
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 next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
