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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something majestic, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, 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 descendant of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Released 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 dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.

A Tale of Two Cities

Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.

The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Creative Visions

Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains 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 assets — like its eclectic cast.

Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).

Dark Seduction

When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.

As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie 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 cult favorite, with critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.