Maybe it seemed “shocking” in 2006 when Children of Men first came out (and certainly when its book form did in 1992) that a government would peddle suicide kits called Quietus to its citizens. Not so much out of “goodwill” but as a means to “thin the herd.” Nonetheless, it’s technically an act of kindness even if done for non-altruistic reasons. In the present climate (of climate change), it seems all too necessary. Like there shouldn’t even be a question that people ought to have access to quick and easy “self-termination” should they get wise and finally take the plunge. Maybe it’s deemed “too grim” and “too unpleasant” still, but that doesn’t change the reality that some people (particularly non-billionaires without a spaceship) will want to make the choice to leave this planet in the only foolproof way possible when the great environmental reckoning comes. Granted, it’s already here.
As Quietus so matter-of-factly—yet also euphemistically—puts it, “It’s your life, it’s your choice.” Innit? Shouldn’t it be anyway? Yet we still live in a time when the very idea of committing suicide is considered the ultimate affront. A sacrilege even to those who are not religious. A squandering of “the greatest gift of all.” Quietus instead offers the tagline, “You decide when.” When you can’t bear this shithole system anymore, when you can’t fathom living in a world where you have to choose between burning in a fire or drowning in an ocean or battling it out with others during the inevitable “resource wars.”
“Is there a chance it will not work for me? There have been no cases of anyone surviving who has taken the preparation,” Theo (Clive Owen) reads aloud from the box to his best friend, Jasper (Michael Caine), while hanging out in his hidden house in the woods. Jasper scoffs at the point society has reached, remarking, “Daddy Government hands out suicide kits and antidepressants in the rations—but ganja is still illegal.” But Theo is largely unmoved by the “lack of regard” for human life anymore. After all, what is there really to regard? Human life has hardly been human for quite some time now, so why the charade about its “sanctity”? Even amid the most glaring evidence to the contrary.
Theo is so blasé about the presence of Quietus as a government offering that he even has the ad set as part of his alarm clock wake-up call. The commercial provides another serene vision of a man drinking from a cup and experiencing the sweet release of exiting this realm (he’s shown literally evaporating as he approaches the beyond). Some fine print then scrolls across the screen to incentivize, “Up to £2,000 to your next of kin. Painless transition guaranteed. Illegals welcome.” How thoughtful.
Even though it shouldn’t take much cajoling in these conditions to get people to want to off themselves, per the 28 Days Later rule of thumb, humans keep going even when they should very clearly commit suicide. Yet the entire slant of Children of Men is ultimately to have hope and faith in the bleakest and most harrowing of scenarios (and now we have Britney Spears as a real life example of that as well). But who are we kidding? None of us is Job and he wasn’t even a real person. And if he was, you can damn well believe he would have enjoyed some Quietus if offered it in those circumstances.
In the novel, people who reach the age of sixty are expected to engage in a mass quietus by drowning. For it can’t be denied that the elderly have become too much of a drain on resources needed for the young (not so subtle an allegory). The only chance at humanity’s continuation even though fertility hasn’t been possible for the past eighteen years. But if anyone might have a chance at birthing, it’s fresh snatch over the stale.
Alfonso Cuarón made the deliberate decision not to play into the potential for over-the-top sci-fi/technology elements because of the story being intended to be set in the future (in the book, what is now present-day—2021—and in the movie, 2027). Which underscores the notion that our dystopia is already here. All that will happen is that it can only become a more augmented version of itself with what little time is left. Does one actually want to stick around when that very malodorous shit hits the fan or do they want the choice of some government-issued Quietus? You decide.
