Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place 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 now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Recently after his last installment 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 next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates 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 the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
