Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears 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, 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 Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
An Urban Vampire Story
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a black wolf jump 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 Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, 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 delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
