How does a business venture that does not require much investment work, a character wonders in director Karuna Kumar’s Telugu film Matka. We sell hope and buy people’s trust, explains the protagonist (Varun Tej as Vasu) whose character is inspired by gambler Ratan Khatri, also known as the ‘matka’ king. His statement and the scenes on a train that precede it, showing the potential for gambling and how it can turn ordinary citizens into addicts, perk up an otherwise predictable narrative.
Khatri is known to have initiated matka, a game of gambling as a spin-off of the bets traders used to place on cotton trade each day. The game became popular throughout India and is said to have had ramifications on the economy in the 1970s. A fiction inspired by the story of this ‘matka’ king, treated like a biopic, holds tremendous scope for drama, a discussion of good versus evil, with characters that switch sides for personal and political gains.
Matka (Telugu)
Karuna Kumar, who has also written the screenplay and dialogues, loosely characterises his protagonist on the lines of Khatri, but reimagines the story in Visakhapatnam, not erstwhile Bombay, to better suit Telugu cinema. He casts an earnest Varun Tej to portray the principal character and ropes in a talented technical team to create a milieu reminiscent of the late 1950s to the early 1980s. There is potential to explore the underbelly of crime and its nexus with politics in the port city, replete with a nightclub setting. However, what unfolds on screen is an oft-repeated rags-to-riches story, with nearly every move spelt out, with little room for surprises.
Matka begins in 1982 when a CBI officer (Naveen Chandra) recaps the journey of Vasu, describing him as a born criminal. Cinematographer Kishor Kumar uses brooding black and white frames when depicting Vasu’s early life, from the time he arrives as a refugee from Burma in the late 1950s. The origin story of a gambler/gangster is typically shaped by the circumstances he faces, mostly driven by poverty. For Vasu, it is a matter of survival, both as a refugee and as an inmate of a juvenile home. These portions lay the foundation for what is in store.
All the incidents that depict how Vasu will use every opportunity to survive and along the way, wait for his turn to strike, happen on familiar lines. The real story begins when Vasu is out of prison, as a young man, trying to eke out a living.
Several characters emerge, some as Vasu’s allies and others who bay for his blood when the time is right. In these segments, there is an attempt to present Vasu as a character who has not completely lost his morality. For instance, the romance that brews between him and Sujatha (Meenakshi Chaudhary) is characterised by dignity and mutual respect. It would have been interesting to know more about their journey together. Instead, the film rushes through their relationship in its eagerness to explore gambling. Meenakshi shines in her role, making the best use of an underwritten part. If only the film had used the potential of her character to better contrast Vasu’s personality.
As the film progresses, neither Vasu’s meteoric rise in wealth and power nor his subsequent losses make for an engrossing viewing experience. For anyone who has watched gangster dramas that are presented as biopics, be it The Godfather, Nayakan, Sarkar or other films structured similarly, Matka offers nothing new. It ends up as a pale shadow of such compelling gangster stories. Even a scene in which Vasu tries to talk about whether he is good or evil is drab, despite what he does next. The minute he walks into the room and faces a crucial character, his intentions are predictable. Varun Tej is sincere in portraying Vasu’s quest for survival in the younger days and internalises the swagger and the intensity in his later years. However, the writing never gives him the scope to portray the gambler as the dreaded character that he could have been. The film sporadically mentions Vasu as a ringmaster capable of tough decisions, and Vasu himself narrates a story about being pushed to the brink of survival, but none of this is utilised for smart storytelling.
Matka has several supporting characters — Satyam Rajesh and Ajay Ghosh among the allies, John Vijay in yet another cardboard-ish villainous character and Nora Fatehi as a glamorous ally of a political bigwig— yet none of them manages to make an impression.
The mention of Emergency and demonetisation of high denomination notes in the mid 1970s also do not make a difference to the flat narrative. The songs (by GV Prakash Kumar) appear misplaced and add to the boredom. The pre-climax and climax portions fall woefully flat since the key characters lay bare their entire gameplan. Since the audiences are aware of the shifting loyalties of characters, there is nothing much to stay invested in.
Matka ends up as a lacklustre period costume drama and the only solace is that it does not promise a sequel.
(Matka is currently running in theatres)
Published - November 14, 2024 03:55 pm IST
