If
you
can
get
over
the
ludicrousness
of
a
distinguished
mathematician
whose
God
is
Albert
Einstein
and
who
at
the
end
of
the
film
gets
the
'Isaac
Newton
Award'
for
excellence
in
his
field,
masquerading
as
a
seedy
gambler
(in
a
lungi,
if
you
please!)
then
Teen
Patti
is
a
surprisingly
skilful
and
audaciously
complex
piece
of
tautly-scripted
and
brilliantly
executed
drama
on
the
seemingly
exclusive
worlds
of
academics
and
avarice
and
the
deep-rooted
link
between
financial
ambitions
and
moral
compromises.
Monetary
indulgence
is
a
theme
done
to
'debt'.
Writer-director
Leena
Yadav
revealing
stealthy
skill
utterly
free
of
gender
influences
gives
the
theme
a
dizzying
but
pinned-down
spin.
She
speeds
confidently
across
out-of-control
lives
on
a
college
campus
(not
quite
the
insouciant
IIT
campus
in
3
Idiots
,
but
chalega)
with
the
confident
vision
of
raconteur
who
spins
a
seemingly
indecipherable
web
of
deceit
intrigue
and
crime
that
was
probably
destined
to
hurl
into
in
uncontrollable
cosmic
and
cinematic
chaos.
Miraculously
Yadav's
yarn
preserves
its
pencil
-sharp
edge
of
intrigue
and
wit
right
to
the
end.
The
story
of
the
eccentric
math-magician's
adventures
in
blunder-land
takes
the
narrative
from
underground
addas
to
high-class
casinos
where
Prof
Venkat
Subramaniam
his
junior
colleague
Madhavan
(clenched
and
compelling
in
his
part-guru
part-shishya
avatar)
and
four
students
convert
the
Professor's
newly-discovered
mathematical
theory
into
hard
cash
on
gambling
tables.
Goodbye,
Prof.
Chips!
The
onion-peel
plot
reveals
layer
after
layer
of
subterfuge
and
conspiracy
until
we
come
to
the
core
idea.
Greed,
we
are
told,
does
have
a
place
in
the
faculty
of
the
intellect
as
long
as
the
craving
for
the
good
things
in
life
doesn't
outdistance
the
ethical
boundaries
of
a
life
committed
to
bettering
society
through
education.
The
story
unravels
through
an
extended
dialogue
in
Cambridge
between
Prof
Subramanian
and
a
British
maths
professor
Perci
Trachtenberg
played
by
Bachchan
Sir
and
Sir
Ben.
Just
watching
the
two
distinguished
baritones
exchange
notes
on
academia,
life
and
their
overlapping
quirks
,
is
a
pleasure
that
makes
for
full
paisa-vasool
viewing.
Alas,
one
of
the
baritones
belonging
to
Ben
Kingsley
speaks
in
Boman
Irani's
voice.
And
that
too
in
Hindi!
Why
are
the
two
professors
huddled
together
in
Cambridge
speaking
to
each
other
in
a
language
that
suggests
no
tenability
except
a
practical
desire
to
make
itself
intelligible
to
Indian
audiences
in
the
non-metropolitan
centres?
It's
s
futile
endeavour
in
linguistic
transference
considering
the
fact
that
this
is
not
a
film
for
the
audience
that
enjoyed
De
Dana
Dan
or
Ajab
Prem
Ki
Ghazab
Kahani.
Teen
Patti
targets
its
cerebral
entertainment
quotient
at
an
audience
that
is
willing
to
expand,
and
not
suspend
its
disbelief.
The
proceedings
charted
by
the
intricate
plot
take
the
characters
belonging
to
three
generations
through
a
smoky
hazy
compromised
kingdom
of
the
devil
and
the
damned.
There's
a
touch
of
Faustian
wickedness
in
the
way
the
old
professor,
his
subordinate
colleague
and
their
four
brightest
students
embrace
hedonism.
The
parameters
of
what
'is'
and
what
'should
be'
are
almost
blurred
beyond
redemption.
The
film
gets
its
moral
colour
and
texture
from
the
technicians
who
seem
to
know
the
exact
shades
needed.
The
death
of
one
of
the
students
(debutant
Siddharth
Kher,
who
has
the
most
complex
part
among
the
youngsters)
signals
the
redemptive
overture
in
the
plot.
Siddharth's
'Bonnie
&
Clyde'
act
with
his
girlfriend
(Shradha
Kapoor)
is
indicative
of
the
places
that
youngsters
want
to
visit
in
their
fantasies.
The
nightmare
is
just
a
hop
away
from
the
dream.
From
the
mathematical
and
magical
to
the
murky
and
immoral,
writer
and
director
Leena
Yadav
exercises
supreme
control
over
the
goings-on.
At
any
given
moment
the
narrative
is
susceptible
to
collapse
like
a
house
of
cards.
Yadav's
grip
over
her
characters'
dithering
conscience
is
perfectly
matched
by
the
brightly
though
starkly-lit
interiors.
Aseem
Bajaj's
camera-work
is
exquisite
in
delicate
shades.
The
camera
knows
where
it
has
to
go
and
slips
in
quietly
to
capture
a
world
that
has
lost
its
plot.
The
songs
and
dances
in
pleasure-seeking
places
are
edited
with
an
eye
for
elegant
economy.
No
space
is
left
for
humbug
to
spill
over.
This
director
means
business.
Many
sequences
such
as
the
one
where
Madhavan
says
goodbye
to
his
screen
girlfriend
Raima
Sen
(when
will
filmmakers
stop
under-using
this
beautiful
actress?)
are
shot
to
suggest
the
edginess
of
a
world
that
could
topple
over
any
time.
Presiding
over
this
world
of
infinite
infamy
is
Mr
Bachchan.
He
portrays
the
ill-understood
proclivities
of
the
academic
genius
with
a
profound
absence
of
brouhaha.
Even
as
the
world
outside
falls
apart
Mr
Bachchan
creates
an
unspoilt
inner
world
for
his
character.
As
for
the
'Ben'
buyale
mehmaan,
the
British
actor's
clipped
tone
is
gone.
What
remains
is
half
a
performance.
Good
enough.
Madhavan
pitches
in
a
bravura
act,
lots
of
furtive
guilty
nervous
close-ups
indicating
a
moral
breach
that
could
destroy
the
character
any
moment.
The
4
newcomers
are
pleasant
enough
in
the
spaces
provided
for
them.
But
given
how
well
each
of
their
characters
is
written
none
of
them
goes
beyond
the
requirements
in
the
script.
A
pity.
Because
the
film
quite
often
transcends
the
written
word
to
go
into
the
realm
of
the
abstract
where
the
existential
joys
of
mathematics
meets
more
earthly
pleasures.
Surprisingly
ingenious
and
resonant,
Teen
Patti
is
not
so
much
about
the
cards
that
are
dealt
on
the
table
as
the
one
that
destiny
doles
out
in
places
where
the
human
eye
and
desire
cannot
reach.
Teen
Patti
re-defines
the
male-adventure
genre
by
letting
a
woman
director
tell
us
what
it
is
like
to
lose
one's
sense
of
propriety
in
pursuit
of
happiness.
The
gender
is
not
the
point
here.