The director's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew 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 man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most praised actresses, she gives a powerful acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — 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, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
