The director's recent work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) 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, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, she gives a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
