Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something regal, giving his figure 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 take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting 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 scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, 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 appearance deteriorates during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
