The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon 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 Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film 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 dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, 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 all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
