Three Decades Back, the Horror Maestro and the Comedy Legend Teamed Up for an Underrated Horror Masterpiece

Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the part into something majestic, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Decades later, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors 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 humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its place in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.

From Zamunda to Brooklyn

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Fresh off his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to break from his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a pure scary movie based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a crime-drama edge to the narrative. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, she delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then intervene. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a clergyman and undermine her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.