The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring 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 frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
