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Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore 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 hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch 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 traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure 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 inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), 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 man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror based on vampire mythology. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.

Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead 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. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Supernatural Romance

When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.

As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.