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Ryan Coogler's latest work may have revitalized the concept of Black vampires, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, earning its position in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the film clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style elevates the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).

Dark Seduction

When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, 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 disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film concludes 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 mostly negative reviews 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 clever mix of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its daring approach and unforgettable performances.