The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump 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 expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted 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 somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie 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 colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, 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 intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes 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. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
