Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own protagonist's lore 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 persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
The acclaimed actress, 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 acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming 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 skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge 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 increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. 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.
