The director's latest work may have breathed new life into 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 motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant 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 tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 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.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. 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 dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
