The director's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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 funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard 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 (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation 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). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
