The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
