The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring 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 must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official 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 jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
