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Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his figure an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Decades later, the comedic star appeared to draw inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's 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 Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this spooky season.

A Tale of Two Cities

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), Maximillian is pulled to New York City. But rather than traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York on a phantom vessel whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The ship is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Creative Visions

Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to break from his scary movie image and make a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The clash of those creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie hits its stride, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most acclaimed actresses, Bassett gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his appearance deteriorates throughout the film is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her roommate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to masquerade as a preacher and weaken her beliefs.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The movie ends with a teaser hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie shows glimpses of genius that might have shone brighter had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.