<p>One of the quintessential characteristics of controversial greats is that they attract ardent admirers as well as detractors. Oddly, when one such towering figure passes away, their fiercest naysayers too invariably look back in sadness and some even join the queue to offer genuine eulogies. Shaji N Karun, in addition to being an eminent cinematographer and film director, was an earthy, humble person. He interacted warmly with one and all sans superfluous airs.</p>.<p>Controversy loved him for his kind, soft mannerism and his patience. A group of activists denounced him as a misogynist. This group was led by the two women filmmakers who were funded by the Kerala State Film Development Corporation (KSFDC), of which he was the chairperson. Another hailed him for having entrusted the cinematography of a film he directed to a woman. Powerful voices like Beena Paul and Deedi Damodaran, two of the founding members of the Women in Cinema Collective (WCC), sing high praises of him.</p>.Eminent Malayalam filmmaker Shaji N Karun dies at 73.<p>Interacting with members of Film Critics Circle of India (FCCI) at the International Film Festival of India (IFFI) in 2018, he stated, “Criticism is an important part of cinema, but it is being lost in the dust and fog of social media. Who is a real film critic? First, this needs to be identified. Nowadays, people who have no clarity about the grammar of cinema are writing whatever they feel like on social networking sites and are claiming to be critics. This is harmful to cinema.”</p>.<p><strong>As a cinematographer</strong></p>.<p>The cinematography of most of G Aravindan’s notable films was done by Karun. In ‘Esthapan’ (1980), the director-cinematographer duo pays homage to Federico Fellini’s iconic man-with-the-sack character by delivering a hefty slap on the face of Christian hypocrisy in Kerala.</p>.<p>‘Kummatty’ (1979) is a lyrical film; the kind that hails from a naturalistic, semi-documentary style of filmmaking. Here, the first cut emerges on the editing table out of many hours of real-life footage often shot on existing locations sans extra props, artificial light, makeup, hairdo, or a bound script. It is later patched up using a bit of planned camerawork.</p>.<p>In ‘Thampu’ (1978), says film critic C S Venkiteswaran in the Journal of Film Preservation, Karun’s “camera tenderly captures the awe and wonder, excitement and exhilaration, on the faces of villagers of all ages and classes watching the circus. Here, the cinematic experience becomes the act of watching another set of people watching: we, the film’s spectators, watch the circus spectators watching the performance. Two kinds of spectating merge.”</p>.<p>In K G George’s political caricature-satire ‘Panchavadi Palam’ (1984), Karun’s camera captures the solemn gram panchayat — images of elected people flinging books and things at each other, jumping over desks, and running out. This is immediately followed by a close up of one of them crawling on his fours next to the very same set of people, now totally sloshed and seated on the floor in one of their homes feasting and drinking together. Karun captures all this in a delightful way exposing the buffoonery of politicians.</p>.<p><strong>As a director</strong> </p>.<p>Much has been said about Karun’s directorial debut ‘Piravi’ (1988) and his next two feature films as director, ‘Swaham’ (1994) and ‘Vaanaprastham’ (1999). All the three films premiered at the Cannes Film Festival making him a living legend. The films that followed may not have been wholly as rich, but they still bore his trademark imagery, tranquillity, and philosophy.</p>.<p>In ‘Swapaanam’ (2014), a humble percussion instrument (a chenda) is elevated to the centre stage as its loud intoxicating sounds rumble over serene Karnatik ragas creating an unusual musical experience. When a Mohiniyattam danseuse challenges a chenda virtuoso to an artistic duel, he whips up an insane frenzy, slipping in and out of his senses. She matches his prowess with her frenetic movements. Together they quiver like passing comets attracted to each other, and find solace in each other’s madness. Thus, contrasting art forms journey together on a spiritual jugalbandi.</p>.<p>Karun was an auteur. Although for some reason he chose not to credit himself for the cinematography of any of his films, his signature is clearly visible in the lighting, composition, and movement of his images. His name stands firm in textbooks of film history.</p>.<p><em>(The author is a film critic, film festival director and writer)</em></p>
<p>One of the quintessential characteristics of controversial greats is that they attract ardent admirers as well as detractors. Oddly, when one such towering figure passes away, their fiercest naysayers too invariably look back in sadness and some even join the queue to offer genuine eulogies. Shaji N Karun, in addition to being an eminent cinematographer and film director, was an earthy, humble person. He interacted warmly with one and all sans superfluous airs.</p>.<p>Controversy loved him for his kind, soft mannerism and his patience. A group of activists denounced him as a misogynist. This group was led by the two women filmmakers who were funded by the Kerala State Film Development Corporation (KSFDC), of which he was the chairperson. Another hailed him for having entrusted the cinematography of a film he directed to a woman. Powerful voices like Beena Paul and Deedi Damodaran, two of the founding members of the Women in Cinema Collective (WCC), sing high praises of him.</p>.Eminent Malayalam filmmaker Shaji N Karun dies at 73.<p>Interacting with members of Film Critics Circle of India (FCCI) at the International Film Festival of India (IFFI) in 2018, he stated, “Criticism is an important part of cinema, but it is being lost in the dust and fog of social media. Who is a real film critic? First, this needs to be identified. Nowadays, people who have no clarity about the grammar of cinema are writing whatever they feel like on social networking sites and are claiming to be critics. This is harmful to cinema.”</p>.<p><strong>As a cinematographer</strong></p>.<p>The cinematography of most of G Aravindan’s notable films was done by Karun. In ‘Esthapan’ (1980), the director-cinematographer duo pays homage to Federico Fellini’s iconic man-with-the-sack character by delivering a hefty slap on the face of Christian hypocrisy in Kerala.</p>.<p>‘Kummatty’ (1979) is a lyrical film; the kind that hails from a naturalistic, semi-documentary style of filmmaking. Here, the first cut emerges on the editing table out of many hours of real-life footage often shot on existing locations sans extra props, artificial light, makeup, hairdo, or a bound script. It is later patched up using a bit of planned camerawork.</p>.<p>In ‘Thampu’ (1978), says film critic C S Venkiteswaran in the Journal of Film Preservation, Karun’s “camera tenderly captures the awe and wonder, excitement and exhilaration, on the faces of villagers of all ages and classes watching the circus. Here, the cinematic experience becomes the act of watching another set of people watching: we, the film’s spectators, watch the circus spectators watching the performance. Two kinds of spectating merge.”</p>.<p>In K G George’s political caricature-satire ‘Panchavadi Palam’ (1984), Karun’s camera captures the solemn gram panchayat — images of elected people flinging books and things at each other, jumping over desks, and running out. This is immediately followed by a close up of one of them crawling on his fours next to the very same set of people, now totally sloshed and seated on the floor in one of their homes feasting and drinking together. Karun captures all this in a delightful way exposing the buffoonery of politicians.</p>.<p><strong>As a director</strong> </p>.<p>Much has been said about Karun’s directorial debut ‘Piravi’ (1988) and his next two feature films as director, ‘Swaham’ (1994) and ‘Vaanaprastham’ (1999). All the three films premiered at the Cannes Film Festival making him a living legend. The films that followed may not have been wholly as rich, but they still bore his trademark imagery, tranquillity, and philosophy.</p>.<p>In ‘Swapaanam’ (2014), a humble percussion instrument (a chenda) is elevated to the centre stage as its loud intoxicating sounds rumble over serene Karnatik ragas creating an unusual musical experience. When a Mohiniyattam danseuse challenges a chenda virtuoso to an artistic duel, he whips up an insane frenzy, slipping in and out of his senses. She matches his prowess with her frenetic movements. Together they quiver like passing comets attracted to each other, and find solace in each other’s madness. Thus, contrasting art forms journey together on a spiritual jugalbandi.</p>.<p>Karun was an auteur. Although for some reason he chose not to credit himself for the cinematography of any of his films, his signature is clearly visible in the lighting, composition, and movement of his images. His name stands firm in textbooks of film history.</p>.<p><em>(The author is a film critic, film festival director and writer)</em></p>