The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors 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 humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers 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 in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
