The director's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once 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 colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
