KARNAN (2021)

Critic - No. 206

Director: Mari Selvaraj

Produced by: V Creations

Casts: Dhnaush, Lal Paul, Yogi Babu, Natarajan Subramanium (Natty), Rajisha Vijayan, Gouri G. Kishan, Lakshmi Priyaa Chandramouli, G.M. Kumar

Language: Tamil

Genre: Drama, Thriller

Music: Santosh Narayanan

SYNOPSIS: 

Karnan (Dhanush), a fearless village youth, must fight for the rights of the conservative people of his village, who are oppressed by the higher community

 

REVIEW:

After a stunning debut with Pariyerum Perumal (2018), Mari Selvaraj continues his strong voice against the oppression of the (labeled) lower caste that shamelessly still exists in India. He opens the film with a power shot of a young girl who is suffering from fits lying helpless in the middle of the road while numerous vehicles drive past her as if nothing is happening. The camera rises up to an aerial shot, almost like a God’s view of the tragic scene. With no intervention of God, the girl dies and becomes a village deity (the visual, mythological metaphors kick in there that flow through the film, almost acting like a trigger for the characters at each stage).

Santosh Narayanan’s rousing track Kanda Vara Sollunga song kicks in and we are left with a sheer goosebump of an intro with the villagers singing for a comeback of a guy named, ‘Karnan’. We do not actually see his face; rather, we see bloodied feet, his handcuffed hands, and his head that is covered by a black cloth. We see who Karnan is through the tattoos that the people sport, and the painting that a painter does with fire before the film kicks off the main plot in 1997. I am spending so much time explaining the intro because Mari Selvaraj establishes the mythical status of his protagonist through this powerful intro, almost giving him an image of a village hero/warrior. 

The plot revolves around Podiyankulam, a poor village of people belonging to the oppressed communities which is refused a bus stop. Their powerful men (obviously of the dominant caste) of their neighbouring village, Melur, use this as a means to keep them dependent on them, restricting them to spread their wings to see the wider world and opportunities. How rising events lead Karan to take charge to break the oppression forms the crux of the story. 

Karnan boldly tackles the issue of caste-based oppression (without using the word ‘caste’ at all in the film) and shows how it can be insidious, and how the bureaucracy stands by the side of the oppressor and even takes part in it that has created a whole cycle of oppression for generations. The first half flows at an unhurried pace which slowly builds and establishes Karnan's world and other supporting characters of the film. The subplots are quite effective and help us to understand the daily problems of society and their internal conflicts as well.

In Mari Selvaraj's world, even animals and insects are significant motifs. The eagles stealing chicks (like how high community is ripping their belongings/rights constantly) to dogs that scamper in the background (representing the oppressed society), the cat that goes after thrown-away food (how the lower society gets things that they are thrown to rather than what they are entitled to), Karnan’s horse (a vehicle used by the higher caste to symbolise power) are just some visual metaphors that he inserts that are integral to the voice of the narration. The excellent repetitive visual metaphor that I liked was the use of a Donkey that walks with its front legs tied. At an important pre-interval scene, Dhanush frees the Donkey, terrifically symbolising the rise against the oppression. Some might feel that the magic realism is overdone, but I just loved it as it is something we rarely see in Indian cinema.

 

When the main conflict kicks off between the police officer, Kannabiran (Natty), and the village, Mari Selvaraj slowly layers all the paybacks, finishing off with a memorable, disturbing and violent climax. I really liked how Mari Selvaraj coats his ‘celebratory’ ending with a tint of pain (in Karnan’s face), hinting that any victory of oppression might just be temporary and a full mentality change against casts are far from being resolved, similar to the note he ended his debut film. 

The only flipside to this excellent drama is the romantic subplot between Karnan and Draupadi that looks very flat and forced. The emotions are just surface levels and their conflicts are not very interesting as well compared to the gripping issue that the film is heading to. With a song embedded in that episode, it just only increases the runtime. On the performance front, Dhanush delivers another career-defining performance, out beating himself yet again. Natty, even though appears from the second half, steals the show in many scenes through his brutally evil character. At one point in time, the theatre was even shouting and cheering for Karnan to kill him in the climax; yes, he was that evil! Other actors like Lal, GM Kumar, and Lakshmi Priyaa shine among the supporting characters.

Santosh Narayanan’s score is a significant elevator of the film’s emotions while cinematographer Theni Eswar’s earthy, raw tones and detailed close-ups aid Mari Selvaraj’s to visually convey his objectives and voice without the need to use lengthy dialogues. Talking about dialogues, Mari Selvaraj keeps the lines rooted in reality yet hard-hitting as well.  "Enga thirumbinaalum evanavadhu oruthan marachutu irukaan" and "Epaadiyavadhu pozhachu kedandha podhumnu irukku paaru namma nenappu, andha nenappu dhaan poora payaluvalum namma thala mela parangalla vekkuranuvo'' are just some examples of Mari’s striking dialogues that encapsulate the pain of the lower caste community. In addition, Art director Ramalingam also deserves applause for recreating the 90s style village with much detail. 

VERDICT:

With effective use of visual metaphors and magic realism, Karnan is a solid social commentary drama that boldly addresses the challenges of the oppressed communities in India and the ever prevailing police brutality. 

 

CELLULOID METER- 4/5: