I was three when the Soviet Union fell and I’ve definitely noticed this context missing. I mean, Goncharov’s "we are both legends" speech to Mario? That couldn’t be more “mutually assured destruction is fucking madness” if it tried.
I know some folks here haven’t gotten to see the director’s cut, so I’ll give you the speech here. I’d like to note this scene also took place in Mario’s office, which didn’t appear in the theatrical release, so you should know the set was absolutely designed to evoke the Oval Office (in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why the scene was cut). Mario has a nice solid wood desk, very commanding, and to his right where an American flag would be in the OO there’s a gun case. There’s a religious icon where the Great Seal would be. Like, this was not subtle. And with Mario sitting behind the desk, in basically the last scene before Goncharov starts losing his mind, we get this:
GONCHAROV: [sits, pulls his gun butt-first from his jacket, pointedly opens the cylinder and dumps the ammunition in his hand. He slowly and deliberately--pointedly, even--puts the bullets back in his jacket and the broken-open gun on the desk.] So. Here we are. One might say we sit here as equals.
MARIO: A fool might.
GONCHAROV: Then maybe we should listen to the fool.
MARIO: [he activates a chess clock. Although chess clocks don't normally tick, there's a faint sound coming from this one. He folds his hands.] I promised you a meeting, Signore Goncharov. No more.
GONCHAROV: Of course. Did your man tell you why I requested it?
MARIO: You slandered my son. [pause] I should have you gunned down like a dog.
GONCHAROV: I think you must know only lies are slander, my friend. And this is why I ask your audience, because there is still time...there is time to go back.
[Mario doesn't speak, but makes kind of a "go on then, I don't have all day, say your bit" gesture with his head.]
GONCHAROV: Here we sit, Signore. We are both legends; in Moscow they speak my name in whispers, and in Naples the crowds part at your word. But do we use this to our advantage? No...no, better your man should threaten my advisor, and my advisor threaten your son, and your son threaten me. The world rushes on and we squabble like children. This, this is the way power works. It could change the face of the earth. Instead we waste it on preening and strutting like peacocks, making giant displays rather than anything of real, lasting value.
MARIO: [his hand edges toward the letter opener in his stationery.] You think my work is of no lasting value?
GONCHAROV: I think in an organization so old it can be difficult to make a truly unique mark--something history will remember. But consider this: your son retracts his threat. My advisor will do the same. We will go forward in a spirit of friendship. Everything from Moscow to Naples will be ours. We won't be just legends, Signore; we will be the stuff of which epic tales are made.
MARIO: [he picks up the letter opener and drives it into the desk between the barrel and butt of Goncharov's gun. Then he turns off the chess clock.] My man will see you out. Signore.
-----------------------------
Literally, literally could not more clearly be about the Cold War if it tried. The imagery of the chess clock is a one-two punch--there's the obvious reference to the Doomsday Clock, which is underlined by the ticking, but there's also the fact that it's a chess clock. The Soviets were very famously chess superpowers, such that when Bobby Fischer decided to dip on a match with a Soviet grandmaster he actually got a phone call from the fucking President being like "ay yo it is absolutely necessary that you play and win this match, or the Soviets get to say they're better than us." Mario's use of the chess clock is symbolically taking power from Goncharov, the Soviet, both in his control of it and in the fact that it's a symbol of Soviet power.
Then you've got the gun and the letter opener. Goncharov is being almost ostentatious in his removal of the bullets and placement of the gun--almost certainly a reference to the treaties signed by the USSR and USA in 1972 (SALT I and ABM treaties). But Mario's "answering shot," not dissimilar to the nuclear "tests" each nation used to basically show what big swinging dicks they were? It was calculated. It says you should be afraid of me but if you swing now, you look like the bad guy. A letter opener isn't going to kill anybody without serious effort. Goncharov's hands aren't even on the desk. It's a symbolic move--a statement, nothing more. But here, we see that everything has stalled--Mario isn't going to issue any apology or retraction, and Goncharov isn't going to stop his intended expansion into Naples. The abrupt stopping of the chess clock at this point is exactly the kind of thing @jumpingjacktrash was talking about--you really want Goncharov to have a second gun, or a knife, or to grab the paperweight off Mario's desk and hit him with it, anything to break the tension in the room. That's it, they're done, there is no more discussion.
And, of course, there's the whole underscore of the "we are both legends" speech itself--plenty of countries were involved in the Cold War. It's just that the US and USSR were considered the two superpowers involved. Yes, we could have worked together. The world we live in today would look unimaginably different if we had. But what did we do instead? Exactly what Goncharov says--we argued, we blew up nuclear weapons to show off to each other, we turned the exploration of space into a pissing contest, there is literally no end to the amount of bullshit we did to go "nyah-nyah, our side is better than yours." (And by "we" I mean both the US and the USSR.) For fuck's sake, we added "under G-d" into the Pledge of Allegiance specifically because Those Godless Russian Communists had atheism as a state "religion" (for lack of a better word). Which, while the Catholic icon behind Mario's desk was certainly window dressing for him being Italian and in the Mafia, it was probably also a subtle nod toward that particular philosophy.
The fact that Scorsese even tried to get this speech on the screen in 1973 is absolutely stunning. It's a heartfelt plea for nuclear disarmament and the end of hostilities, (barely) disguised as a pair of mob bosses arguing over a matter of pride.
You really, really need to learn a little of the history of the Cold War to truly appreciate all the levels in this movie. It's no mistake that Goncharov is from the USSR, and if you don't know that background, you're missing so much.
