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The director's recent project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the role into something regal, providing his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Decades later, the comedic star seemed to take a cue from Marshall, enriching his own protagonist's lore in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: 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 proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this spooky season.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like the royal character 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 arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — reminiscent of Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Funky 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.

Artistic Goals

Fresh off his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). Meanwhile, the star wanted to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror rooted in Dracula lore. The clash of those artistic aims accounts for the film's exposition-heavy opening of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the film clicks into high gear, it opens up 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 crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, Bassett delivers a powerful acting with her co-star, a familiar face from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the humor and fear, even when employed by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a preacher and undermine her faith.

As the story unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn made a moderate financial success and received largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with reviewers later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful film defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.