The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: 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 edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a powerful performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor'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 highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, 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 murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
