Matka King

That said, Matka King does test your patience. At eight episodes, it feels indulgent. The pacing dips, especially with the overly detailed explanations of gambling mechanics. For viewers not invested in the world of betting, these portions can feel tedious, even alienating. But beneath all the numbers and risk, the show circles back to one idea: hope. The belief that the next bet could change everything. It’s what drives the characters, and ultimately, even Manjule's story.

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.