On September 1st, Gagan Dev Riar’s lead performance was the only thing that made an impact. But it would’ve been unfair to call him the saving grace.
Because it settles into more of a dull franchise formula than a narrative rhythm. I found myself scrolling through cat reels while the stamp-paper counterfieter’s story unraveled in uneven spurts.
The tone is more like Madhur Bhandarkar’s than Hansal Mehta’s. The writing, too, is more like Rajat Arora’s in terms of how every normal exchange turns into a duel of punchlines.
An example of the quirk done well is a scene where Telgi celebrates his return from prison. He throws a lavish party for all the greedy politicians and ‘associates’ in his apartment, determined to bolster his network and double down on his business.
The treatment veers dangerously close to asking for our sympathy, not empathy. All that remains after ten episodes, then, is a performance. A performance that – if described by an analogy-loving character in the show.