Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Released 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 frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
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 crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a powerful performance 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 uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, 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 results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
