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The director's recent project may have breathed new life into the idea of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable pioneering films was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived 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 character's mythology in the director's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that Black vampire stories can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Released 30 years ago on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.

A Tale of Two Cities

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is pulled to the Big Apple. But rather than journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the continuation of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose sailors has been inexplicably killed, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, setting the tone for a movie that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Directorial Ambitions

Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to move beyond his scary movie image and make 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, Murphy aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a pure scary movie based on vampire mythology. The clash of those creative goals explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film clicks into high gear, 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 colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, she gives a commanding acting alongside Payne, a familiar face from the time. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, creating a hilarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper 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 employed by other actors).

Supernatural Romance

When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the fear escalates, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. 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 partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.

As the plot progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and discoveries of heritage. This leads to 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 film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got largely critical reception upon debut. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with reviewers later applauding Craven’s direction, the spark between the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The movie shows moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the history of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.