The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date 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 burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting 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 essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — 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 scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
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 mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie 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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
