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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something majestic, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position 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 a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.

A Tale of Two Cities

Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Artistic Goals

Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager 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 comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, 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 movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose relationship with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she delivers a powerful performance alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).

Supernatural Romance

When the two leads meet and the stars 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 all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the plot progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, 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 overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.