The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take 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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create 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 straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at 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 received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, 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 delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
