The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his character 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 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 all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
