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Ryan Coogler's recent project may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, Eddie Murphy 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 escaped 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, frightening, and intellectually stimulating all at once, earning its place 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 scares this spooky season.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like Prince Akeem 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 Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf jump from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and genuine scares). At the same time, the star wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.

The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the film reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders 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 weaken her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie concludes with a teaser suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry defined by its bold style and memorable acting.