The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting 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 release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
