Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation 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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle 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 aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on 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 when the movie 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 dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance 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, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized 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 fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
