Three Decades Back, the Horror Maestro and the Comedy Legend Collaborated for an Forgotten Cinematic Jewel
Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist 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 thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, 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. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.