The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship 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. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — 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 (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
