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Ryan Coogler's recent work may have revitalized the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic pioneering films was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is turned by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a stereotype, Marshall transformed the part into something regal, giving his character an 18th-century backstory as Mamuwalde, a noble royal from Africa.

Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take a cue from Marshall, deepening his own protagonist's lore in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose forebears escaped 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 humorous, terrifying, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the heritage of the category.

Debuted three decades back 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.

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 instead of journeying from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he emerges from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, seeking to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an heir of his clan.

The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is discovered by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a black wolf leap from the ship, run into an alley, and transform into a man — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the longer Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the tone for a film that expertly mixes horror and humor.

Creative Visions

Fresh off his final entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was keen to move beyond his horror reputation and make a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both comedy and real fear). At the same time, Murphy aimed 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 when the film hits its stride, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.

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 (Allen Payne), adds a procedural element to the story. Among Black cinema’s most praised performers, Bassett gives a commanding acting with Payne, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with his comedic partner, forming a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Watching Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how Murphy’s usual bag of tricks enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by other actors).

Gothic Intrigue

When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry takes center stage. Max’s plan is to take away all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to masquerade as a clergyman and weaken her beliefs.

As the plot unfolds, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This leads to a third act filled with temptation, as life and eternal punishment are at stake. The film ends with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that could have happened had the film been more successful. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a moderate financial success and got mostly negative reviews upon release. Over time, it found new life as a cult favorite, with critics later applauding the filmmaker's work, the electric chemistry Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been in agreement on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of Black horror, an overlooked but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.