The director's recent project 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 iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching 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 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 thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. 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 object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious 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 Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film 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 modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
