A heavily injured man is being taken to a hospital. What are the odds on him surviving, the people accompanying him want to know.
Brij Bhatti has been successful, so successful that even death is an opportunity. The numbers ace is behind forms of betting that ensure a fair shot for every player. He’s an honest gambler. Such a thing exists and he’s living proof of it.
How Brij Bhatti (Vijay Varma) got there is the subject of Nagraj Manjule’s first full-length Hindi series. Directed by Manjule and co-written with Abhay Koranne, Matka King follows a fictitious folk hero who creates a level playing field for punters.
The Hindi show on Prime Video, based on a concept by Ashish Aryan and inspired by real-life matka operator Ratan Khatri, begins in the mid-1960s. Brij parts ways with Lalji (Gulshan Grover), who runs an illegal gambling business based on cotton trades in Mumbai.
Brij creates a new game in which numbers are pulled out of a matka, an earthen pot. The ubiquitous receptacle indicates not only to Brij’s humble origins but also his clientele: Mumbai residents struggling to survive in an expensive city, eager for every extra rupee.
Brij’s USP is transparency, which makes him a wealthy man overnight. He’s aided by his brother Lachu (Bhupendra Jadawat) and manager Dagdu (Siddharth Jadhav) and supported by his wife Barkha (Sai Tamhankar). The Parsi widow Gulrukh (Kritika Kamra) eases Brij’s entry into high society.
Brij’s progress catches the attention of the journalist D’Souza (Girish Kulkarni), the police inspector Eknath (Bharat Jadhav) and the politician Bapat (Kishor Kadam). While D’Souza and Eknath rail against Brij, the grubby-handed Bapat senses an opportunity, as does the smuggler Darab (Vineet Kumaar Singh).
On the surface, Matka King doesn’t appear to be out of the ordinary. Brij’s dizzying rise is initially treated with the vicarious fondness reserved for gutsy rule breakers who happen to be lawbreakers.
Brij sees himself as a righteous agent of income redistribution, a scrupulous businessman for whom gambling is a sport and not a social evil. Matka King indulges Brij a great deal too. He is underdog and cool cat rolled into one.
But like Brij breaks the mould, Matka King quietly counters middle-class handwringing about crime and public morality. Manjule and Koranne have done something radical here: a non-judgemental look at gambling; a character study of a person who might normally be labelled a criminal; a socioeconomic survey of the conditions that birth people like Brij.
The eight-episode show suffers from a bit of bloat and threadbare production values. The period detailing is all in the fixed telephones and newspaper advertisements. But in its engrossing and thought-provoking exploration of complex ideas, Matka King is a winner.
The unfussy, ground-up approach places Brij’s Robin Hood-like figure in a time when the post-Independence compact is giving way. Sureties about virtue and vice, integrity and corruption, role models and villains are eroding.
Within typical plot turns are nestled essential truths about multicultural, Mammon-addicted Mumbai. Matka King identifies the city’s visible and invisible barriers to aspirants; its transactional embrace of anybody who can turn a profit; its disregard for the underclass. It’s rare to have a show that portrays workers positively, rather than as obstacles.
Matka King is never in doubt about who’s actually diddling whom. The journalist D’Souza and the inspector Eknath discover the truth in Bob Dylan’s words in the song Absolutely Sweet Marie: “To live outside the law, you must be honest.”
Nagraj Manjule expertly directs a magnetic Vijay Varma, who conveys Brij Bhatti’s charm offensive through pert smiles and unflappable behaviour. Varma, who sometimes resembles Amol Palekar in his manner, is a dangerously persuasive and occasionally vulnerable maverick.
Having put Brij on a throne, the series does poke him every now and then. Manjule never forgets the democratising impulse that has made Brij who he is.
Brij’s wife Barkha, brother Lachu, factotum Dagdu and associate Gulrukh are all rounded characters. They try to mimic Brij’s emphasis on individualism, only to realise that the rules play differently for him and them.
Another departure in Matka King is the emphasis laid on the female characters, who are intelligent, decisive and independent. Sai Tamhankar’s excellent Barkha is no put-upon wife, nor is Kritika Kamra’s Gulrukh a blinkered follower. Jamie Lever is an unusual casting choice, shining as Dagdu’s girlfriend.
Nobody is a victim here. Everyone has knowingly walked into the matka scene, spinning the pot as they see fit. Instead of castigating them, Matka King keeps an open mind.
The result is a show that balances hubris with caution and sermonising with wisdom, best captured in Barkha’s barb against Brij: you are not even a complete villain. It’s actually a compliment.
‘His only superpower is honesty’: Nagraj Manjule and Vijay Varma on ‘Matka King’
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