The director's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something regal, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, deepening his own character's mythology 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 persecuted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But instead of traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) 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 transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the mood for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.
Creative Visions
Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by venturing into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims accounts for 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 assets — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, she delivers a commanding performance with her co-star, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the comedy and horror, even when employed by other actors).
Dark Seduction
When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her faith.
As the story unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, including transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
