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The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the Blaxploitation era. One of the most memorable pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, William Marshall's role is bitten 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 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven'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 hunted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be humorous, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating all at once, securing its position in the canon by balancing all three while respecting the subgenre's legacy.

Debuted 30 years ago on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.

An Urban Vampire Story

Like Prince Akeem in Coming to America (the actor's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of journeying from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an heir of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, 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 observes a black wolf leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and morph into a man — reminiscent of the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack kicks in, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes scares and laughs.

Directorial Ambitions

Recently after his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was eager to move beyond his scary movie image and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both laughs and real fear). At the same time, Murphy wanted to subvert expectations by diving into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of Max's origins and its generally sluggish start. But when the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.

The acclaimed actress, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays detective Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), adds a crime-drama edge to the story. Among African American film's most praised performers, Bassett delivers a commanding acting alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, Murphy spends the majority of the film with Kadeem Hardison, forming a uproarious classic comedy pair as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. The vampire's scheme is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict 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 transformations and discoveries of heritage. This leads to a final section filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film concludes with a stinger suggesting a possible follow-up, one that might have materialized had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. Over time, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that might have shone brighter had all participants been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the mixed-genre result audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of Black horror, an underappreciated but impactful entry defined by its bold style and unforgettable performances.