The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’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 enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
