Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue 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 descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its place in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict 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 clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching 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 elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved 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 canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
