The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart 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 movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, 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 swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, 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 film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
