Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled 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 funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict 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 plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
