Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, 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 heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector 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, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a powerful acting with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further 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 humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, 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 housemate, creates conflict between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
