The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 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 spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage 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 transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry 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 laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled 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 film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
