Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
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 ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted 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 position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting 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 frights this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. 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 phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, she gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment 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 made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.