The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace 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 bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled 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 continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in 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 more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
