Mafia: The Old Country (2025): The Review

Overview

Mafia: The Old Country may not be the longest, flashiest, or most replayable entry in the series, but what it offers in return is focus and confidence. This is a tight, story-driven mob drama that thrives on atmosphere, character, and precision, never straying from its purpose. It knows exactly what it wants to be, and it gets there without wasting a second. For those craving a grounded, cinematic narrative with a clear creative vision, The Old Country delivers a memorable and beautifully restrained experience.

Score: 8.5 out of 10

The Positives ✅

Mafia: The Old Country doesn’t just revive the series’ roots, it understands them. The writing is sharp, the pacing taut, and the performances magnetic. Enzo isn’t some cardboard mobster with a tragic backstory; he’s a human being, weighed down by guilt, loyalty, and circumstance. His journey from desperate miner to made man never loses its emotional thread. The storytelling is confident enough to take its time, letting quiet moments breathe before tightening the screws again. That balance, of violence and vulnerability, makes this one of the most compelling crime narratives in years.

The voice acting carries enormous weight here. Enzo’s voice feels lived-in and weary, the kind of performance that sells decades of hardship with a sigh. The supporting cast matches him beat for beat, adding color and tension to every exchange. The dialogue doesn’t sound written, it sounds overheard. Even the smallest roles feel inhabited, making the game’s world feel dense with personality and history. It’s not just good acting for a game; it’s good acting, period.

Gameplay finds a satisfying groove between stealth, shootouts, and story. Cover combat is tight and readable, weapons feel meaty, and enemies react enough to keep the pressure up. Driving has that perfect mix of weight and swing, cars drift on cobblestones like they mean it, and mission design makes clever use of the environment. Nothing revolutionary, but everything feels tuned to feed the rhythm of tension and release that defines a Mafia story. When things explode, they matter. When they quiet down, the silence feels earned.

And visually? The game nails atmosphere. Sun-bleached courtyards, dust-bitten villages, dim churches where secrets fester, it all feels painted with care. The orchestral score knows exactly when to rise and when to fall away into silence. Gunfire cracks, tires shriek, and ambient noise sells the illusion of a living world. At $49.99, the overall package feels premium: a clean, deliberate narrative experience that delivers emotion and craftsmanship instead of open-world bloat.

The Negatives ⚠️

For all its polish, The Old Country can feel a little too safe. The 10–12-hour story is perfectly paced, but once it’s over, there’s not much reason to come back. A New Game+, alternate endings, or deeper progression systems could’ve stretched its lifespan without bloating it. As it stands, the lack of replay incentives makes the experience a one-and-done affair, even if that “one” is excellent.

Technically, the visuals lag a generation behind their artistic ambition. The art direction is superb, composition, lighting, and texture work sell the illusion, but the underlying fidelity isn’t up to 2025’s standards. Character models vary wildly in detail, and animation stiffness occasionally undercuts otherwise powerful scenes. On PS5, performance hiccups pop up during cutscenes and fast camera turns, and texture pop-ins break immersion just enough to notice. Not deal-breaking, but hard to ignore.

The mission structure also falls into a comfortable routine. Each chapter follows a familiar rhythm: stakeout, infiltration, shootout, escape. It works, but it’s predictable. There’s rarely a moment that surprises mechanically. The combat is competent, but it doesn’t evolve beyond its opening hours. Likewise, collectibles and light side activities exist mostly as window dressing. You’ll wish for one or two standout set pieces that truly shake the formula.

And while the sound design excels, the soundtrack itself fades fast once the credits roll. It supports scenes beautifully in the moment but doesn’t stick in your head after. Given the game’s operatic tone, a few truly iconic tracks could’ve elevated it even higher. In short: the flaws aren’t fatal, but they keep a great experience from becoming a masterpiece.

The Experience 🎮

What makes The Old Country special is its clarity of purpose. It knows exactly what kind of game it wants to be: a focused, character-driven crime drama. There are no skill trees to obsess over, no endless checklists, just a straight, purposeful climb through Enzo’s rise and fall. Every success feels earned, every cutscene grounded in the weight of what came before. When the game asks you to pull a trigger, you understand why, and what it costs.

The pacing feels like a well-written novel. You rise slowly through the Torissi ranks, meeting people who change you in ways both subtle and tragic. Allies evolve, loyalties twist, and every relationship feels alive. The writing refuses to paint anyone as purely good or evil. Everyone’s hands are dirty, but their reasons are clear. That moral murk gives The Old Country its edge: it’s not about right or wrong, it’s about survival.

Mechanically, it’s not flashy, but it never gets in the way. The controls do what they should, the shooting feels grounded, and the driving ties you to the world. Between missions, Sicily opens up, a quiet, golden landscape humming with history. The downtime gives you space to breathe, to think about what you’ve done, and to admire the quiet sadness that hangs over it all.

When the credits roll, the silence that follows feels deliberate. There’s no sequel bait, no loose ends begging for DLC. Just a story told completely and cleanly. Mafia: The Old Country doesn’t redefine the genre, but it reminds you why it mattered in the first place. It’s not trying to be loud, or long, or endlessly replayable. It’s trying to be good, and it succeeds. At a time when most games stretch themselves thin, that restraint alone makes it feel like a classic.