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The director's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most memorable pioneering films 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 caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Creative Visions

Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.

Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Dark Seduction

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, 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 kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and weaken her faith.

As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film concludes with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.