The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology 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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
