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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre date back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is turned by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, providing his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.

Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose forebears fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that Black vampire stories can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, securing its place in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the heritage of the category.

Released 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an must-see if you want a little comedy with your frights this spooky season.

A Tale of Two Cities

Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his tribe.

Maximillian arrives in New York aboard a ghost ship whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his relative Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph 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 film that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, the director was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited horror tropes for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it opens up to its assets — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (the actor), brings a procedural element to the story. One of African American film's most acclaimed actresses, she gives a commanding performance with Payne, a familiar face from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper 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 employed by the cast).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars finally share the screen, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, creates conflict between her and her partner, 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 metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The movie flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge viewers saw. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the history of Black horror, an overlooked but influential film defined by its bold style and memorable acting.