The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying 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 clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like 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 final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory 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 object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a powerful performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious 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 highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding 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 aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
