The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, 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 procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (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 humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
