The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
