Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall elevated the part into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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 funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further 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 humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, 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 everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.
