The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening 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 forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for 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.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry 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 aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
