The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position 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 a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights 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 rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival 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 found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes 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 extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. 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 performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
