We saw the silent version of this film, and it is quite simply shimmeringly beautiful. It's quite hard to see how a sound version could have been created, since it is shot with pure silent technique, long wordless sweeps of narrative without a single intertitle -- save for a few disconcerting sequences where Louise Brooks, playing a French typist, is quite visibly speaking in English... The only section that obviously cries out for sound is the final scene, where Brooks is watching the rushes for her test 'for a sound film': footage which plays constantly in the background as the action unfolds, with her mouth moving in ceaseless soundless song. I was unsurprised to learn afterwards that this passage alone in the talkie version had been hailed as an exemplar of new technique!
In the sunny beauty of its opening scenes and the fairy-tale inevitability of what follows, the film resembles a dream. As a 'Louise Brooks movie' it was not at all what I was expecting, either from her Hollywood comedies or from G.W.Pabst's German melodramas: I found the idiom more fluent and enjoyable than either, and Brooks herself is a different creature, a sturdy laughing young animal rather than a shop-window vamp or manipulated doll.
But what gives this film greater depth than at first appears is the unexpected second half; repelled by the rich parasites who cluster around her beauty, the pauper princess returns to a tear-stained reunion with her humbly-born true love... and the tale might very well have been ended there. Fairy-tale, however, turns to tragedy. The dilettante Grabovsky, confident in his ability to manipulate the woman he desires, is yet all too correct in his self-interested prediction -- the young lovers cannot make each other happy -- and André, ironically, was right to mistrust the social influence of beauty contests: after the intoxication of her moment's glory, Lucienne frets herself to despair over the humdrum routine of married life while her husband, in turn, is driven wild by any reminder of the whole affair. If it were a simple case of a mis-matched marriage, that would be one thing... but the true tragedy is that they do love each other.
In many ways "Prix de Beauté" reminds me of Murnau's "Sunrise". But if so, the fairground and photographer scenes here would form a distorted mirror-image of the joyous reconciliation in "Sunrise"; no dream but an alienating nightmare. And the following dawn brings not a miraculous reunion but an empty bed and deserted home. Leaving a letter to say that she loves him and will always love him, Lucienne vanishes again from André's life in quest of brightness and freedom; and this time she will never come back.
Gossip columns confirm all André's worst convictions, as he learns of his wife's whereabouts through reports coupling her name with Grabovsky. When the young workman penetrates at last to the lavish sanctum of the screening-room, it is with drawn gun -- to be greeted by the sight of his rival courting and caressing a laughing Lucienne, the same woman who had pledged her undying affection as she left him. He kills her, but even as he kills is transfixed by the living image on screen, Lucienne in all her transformed glory as he never saw her. The two women are juxtaposed in an endless, powerful moment, as André is seen, seized, unresisting, and pulled away: the dying girl and her singing self still projected above, caught unknowing out of time into celluloid eternity, playing on unconscious of life or death or love beneath her...
The main jarring element in the film is the character of André's co-worker Antonin, who appears to serve no role throughout other than to be the licensed butt of his contemporaries' malice. He is the ugly one who can never get the girl, the ungainly wimp who is tripped and tormented in the washrooms and at work, and must take it all with an uncertain ingratiating smile in his fruitless hope for social acceptance: a typical product of the bullying of the more gifted and popular, in other words, but one the audience is apparently being invited to laugh at along with his tormentors. Unless the intention is to expose a darker side to the protagonists (for which I perceive no sign), the character seems to exist merely as comic relief, but comic relief with a distinctly nasty edge. When we know him only as an inept Peeping Tom at the waterside, it's easy to laugh, although the others' revenge seems a little over the top; when we discover that he is no chance-met stranger but André's colleague and regular sidekick, the continuing attacks rapidly cease to be very funny.
But it is the images that remain. Beauty, nightmare, and dream.

Well, maybe the PC version of this game was impressive. Maybe. I just finished playing the PS2 version and it's pretty much a complete mess.
There are a couple elements that are okay or promising. I'll mention those first because it will be over quickly. First, the idea of a historical GTA-like game is a great one. The game Gun was a historical GTA-like game and unlike Mafia, Gun was excellent. I'd love to see a game set during Mafia's era done right. Next, the storyline is well written. The story makes sense, it has dramatic arcs, it uses an unusual device (with much of the game being a backstory) and it's interesting. Finally, some of the graphics--especially those used during cutscenes--are impressive. Mafia's designers seemed to focus on getting the graphics right in the places where GTA skimped on that effort, especially the characters. Unfortunately in many other areas, the graphics kinda stink, and I'd much rather have excellent gameplay than impressive-looking characters.
The gameplay is what sinks this title so low. First off, the controls and camera absolutely suck. That has to be the first focus of any game developers. You can't release a game where the controls and/or camera suck. Number one, there's no reason that the player's character, Tom, can't have his full range of motion controlled by the left analog stick. Unless it's absolutely necessary, and it hardly ever is, I hate the set-up where the left stick moves the character in a "strafing" way and the character can only turn using the right analog stick. Here, it's not only unnecessary, it makes most of the simplest actions a challenge. For example, Tom has to climb on a couple missions. But the game is designed so poorly that you have to frustratingly keep manipulating both the right analog stick and the camera, and then press L1 every time you need to climb, or Tom will descend instead.
Next, I've never seen a worse fighting system. The first problem is that you can't auto-aim or lock on to any targets. At one early point, the game seems to tell you that you can use L2 or R2 to lock on to targets, but that never worked. So to focus on any enemy, you have to struggle with the stupid right analog stick and try to keep adjusting both the character's orientation and the camera, which tends to drift to the wrong angle or make Tom disappear all the time. By that time, you're probably getting pummeled or shot to death.
Next, if you're touching or almost touching an enemy--and that's certainly going to be the case for hand to hand combat or when using melee weapons, the fighting system--which primarily consists of tapping or holding R1, is completely useless. Enemies can pummel you almost in a bear hug, but you just can't move unless you back off. So close fighting tends to consist of you yanking on the left analog stick, yelling at the character to move away, which it won't do 50% of the time, then tapping R1 as much as you can before the enemy gets too close again and makes R1 useless. And if the enemy changes their angle to you in the meantime, you're also going to struggle with the right analog stick to get your character oriented in the right way and to get the camera in position so you can see anything. By that time, you're probably getting pummeled or shot again, and your only option will be to try to move the character away again. My fights often consisted of making Tom run circles around an area like a comedy film, hoping that I could gain enough time to struggle with the analog stick and get a couple shots in before being at the AI's mercy again. So much for realistic fighting.
And the same problems and more exist when trying to fight with guns. If you're touching someone, half the time the controller just won't allow you to fire off a shot, yet they can still riddle you full of holes. Additionally, there's no auto-aim, and the aiming system is ridiculously sensitive, even with the sensitivity set to zero under Options. Gunfights tend to consist of you hopelessly trying to aim or move away while the enemy puts shot after shot into you. Luckily or not, damage seems to be recorded almost randomly. It can take one to ten shots or more to incapacitate any character, and there's no rhyme or reason to it. You can put five shots into an enemy's head and near point blank range and they'll still return fire and hurt you. Yet, the game designers seemed to care enough about realism than they built a recoil into your aiming system, so after shots with powerful enough guns, your aim will float off target, and you'll have to fight with it again.
As for the celebrated graphics, except for the characters and textures that you're close to, they're actually pretty disappointing. The distance always seems mostly empty, and there are often expanses of flat colors and textures nearby when you're driving. The city wasn't very well designed. It's not varied enough, and there aren't many interesting things to see or do. The cars seem slow and they're difficult to control. They also all drive about the same. Some have mentioned the music, but that was also pretty nondescript. A much better job could have been done on that end. Also, as many others have mentioned, the load times are ridiculous and constant. They tend to be over a minute long, and they occur between and in the middle of everything--even races.
Overall, the Mafia port to PS2, at least, seems to have been very rushed. The game feels and plays like an incomplete hack job.