Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall elevated the role into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant 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 tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.
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 little comedy with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.
