The game’s opening is pure cinema, with sweeping shots of the Italian landscape that set a gorgeous, movie-esque tone for the 13-or-so-hour story to come. You fill the well-worn shoes of Enzo, a chap who escapes from a mine and lands squarely in the employ of a local Don. The pacing is, let’s say, deliberate. You’ll spend the early hours running errands and getting to know the family before you’re even trusted with a shooter. This slow burn is intentional, letting you soak in the atmosphere and witness Enzo’s gradual indoctrination into the family business. It’s less of a power fantasy and more like being a fly on the wall of a Scorsese flick. There's even a love story woven in, with Enzo falling for the Don’s daughter, Isabella, creating a classic tangle of romance and rivalry between warring factions.
Initially, Enzo has all the personality of a block of parmesan. He's a classic "yes man," doing as he's told without much ambition. It feels like a deliberate choice to let the player project themselves onto him, but it falls a bit flat compared to the tightly written protagonists of games like God of War or The Last of Us. Thankfully, Enzo comes into his own in the final chapters, where grief and tough choices finally give him some much-needed motivational kick.
Where the game truly shines, however, is its cast. In over two decades of gaming, I've rarely encountered such a memorable crew of characters. From the brash Cesare to the villainous Il Merlo and the defiant Isabella, every character is distinct and brilliantly realised. A special mention has to go to Don Torrisi’s voice actor, who delivers a phenomenal performance with an imposing presence in every scene he graces. The game’s cutscenes are a masterclass in tension, often using silence, sharp dialogue, and clever camera angles rather than music to create gravitas, just like the mob movies of old.