The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant 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 thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of 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 offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success 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 clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
