Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. Among 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 insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a commanding acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and memorable acting.
