To get there, you have to move on rackets, pressuring informants and depleting illicit operations of income to force confrontations with racket honchos. You start with nothing, the archetypal vendetta-obsessed underdog looking to knock the biggest blowhard off his throne. It’s a tale told with the sort of ethical ambivalence and intelligence still rarely seen in games that lean this heavily on cinematics. Race isn’t a gameplay element so much as atmospheric poison that inflects every exchange-including the random chitchat picked up from passerby, and sometimes even the slurs that tumble tribally from your lips.
You’re also partly Dominican, and therefore subject to the vulgar condescensions and epithets of a confused and frightened country in the throes of a civil rights reckoning. tapped you for special ops work while overseas and now wants your help taking down a local mob boss who as the game’s getting rolling gives you some terrific reasons to oblige. The game supposes you’re fresh off a military tour of Vietnam circa 1968 and looking to reboot.
But as a game (for PC, Mac, PlayStation 4 and Xbox One), it’s mired in monotony, and more than a few play-futzing bugs.Ī stirring cinematic opening that’s smartly delivered documentary-style from the vantage of people reflecting on what happened initially obscures this. It’s also a remarkable feat of world building, as evocative of the jazzy, cypress-haunted Big Easy southern-opolis its pastiching as Grand Theft Auto maker Rockstar’s superlative collage of southern California. It’s hard to see at first, given how long it takes to unpack its slow pyramidal crime climb, or how well and powerfully told its mob-revenge story is. It turns out Mafia III is the game I worried it might be, just not in the ways I expected.
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