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The director's latest work may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the part into something regal, providing his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, the comedic star appeared to draw 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 descendant of Dracula whose ancestors escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.

From Zamunda to Brooklyn

Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage 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 witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his scary movie image and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted 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 the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a commanding performance with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a highlight 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 Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her faith.

As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section packed with seduction, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film shows moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.