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Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring 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 want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.

A Tale of Two Cities

Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, she gives a powerful acting alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, 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 third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics 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 aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.