The director's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character 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 figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon 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 a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor'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 mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
