The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: 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 humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, 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 when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds 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 narrative. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
