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The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears 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, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.

From Zamunda to Brooklyn

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.

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 scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict 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 strengths — like its diverse ensemble.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role 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 employed by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.

As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.