The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, 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 descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success 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 electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
