Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped 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 funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Released 30 years ago 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.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod 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. Silas then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
