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 early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped 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 simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet 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 all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in 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 story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
