The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame 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 a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create 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 venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, 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 highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme 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 disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
