In Karnan, a world haunted by the murdered, the survivors, like in the short, rise in revolt in a story partly based on the Kodiyankulam riots of 1995. Impelled by the horrific event, Mari’s short is about revolution, police brutality, communal violence. Interestingly, the director’s first book, ‘ Thamirabaraniyil Kollapadaathavargal’ had a short based on the Thamirabarani massacre of July 23, 1999. The narrative assumes the staggering proportions of an epic, leaving you suffering an overwhelmed silence. Karnan, the director’s sophomore outing, is a saga that is subversive, searing, and thrillingly surrealistic. The story and emotional relevance of these paintings is quite clear. He owns and ‘knows nothing’, and yet, rises to fight for his land. Snow, like Karnan, suffers condemnation for the illegitimacy of his birth, and is always reminded that he does not belong. It is a recreation of an iconic frame from Game of Thrones: a shot in the Battle of the Bastard episode, that has Jon Snow wielding a sword, ready to take on the swarming soldiers of Bolton. Another imposing painting is placed above the filmmaker’s upholstered chair, in the intimate confines of his room. The king in the painting, however, seems uncertain, a look of alarm visible on his face, as he considers the potential dangers lurking in the woods. His legend as the chosen one is cemented here. Remember the majesty of Karnan on an elephant after triumphantly slashing a fish into two in the village ritual. One is of a Herculean king, on an elephant, wielding a sword and riding alone in the wilderness. Two of them, especially, belong intimately and spiritually to the world of his Karnan. There are other paintings: of warriors, of gladiators brandishing their swords paintings that radiate the burning spirit of his new film. Welcoming you into his office is a large painting of Arya Stark on horseback, wearing her sword. Black and white paintings adorn the walls of Mari Selvaraj’s bustling office.
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