The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch 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 classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector 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 longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor 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. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — 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 intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, 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. 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 sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
