Three Decades Back, Wes Craven and the Comedy Legend Joined Forces for an Overlooked Scary Gem
Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's 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 funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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 film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror 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 aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious 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 appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry 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 in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes 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 Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
