The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, 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. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled 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 funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up 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), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends 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 debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance 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 Black horror, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
