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Ryan Coogler's recent project may have revitalized the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin 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 Wes Craven's take on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the hall of fame by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your scares this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Similar to Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to New York City. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the survival of his undead bloodline with an heir of his tribe.

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 nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the mood for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his final entry in the iconic horror series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his next film after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes 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 creative goals accounts for the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But once the film 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 (the actor), adds a procedural element to the narrative. One of African American film's most acclaimed performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Supernatural Romance

When the two leads meet and Murphy and Bassett finally share the screen, the film hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film 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 critics later praising the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of frights and fun. The film flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but influential film defined by its daring approach and memorable acting.