Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's take 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 proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 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 spooky season.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, 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 African American film's most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).
Supernatural Romance
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.
As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.
