In 1995, the Horror Maestro and Eddie Murphy Joined Forces for an Overlooked Scary Gem
Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.
Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be humorous, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.
Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the mood 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 horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance with her co-star, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, 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 murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger suggesting 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 debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.