The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed 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.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening 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 ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry 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 unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
