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The director's recent work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor 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 journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline 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 nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to break from his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its strengths — like its diverse ensemble.

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. Among African American film's most praised actresses, she delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when employed by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a final section filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.