Pink Moon
Things we don’t talk about
Jan is a 74-year old widower who lives alone in a comfortable house where he and his wife had raised their two children, son Ivan and daughter Iris.
Ivan is married with two kids, while Iris is single. They both live nearby their childhood home and often visit their dad. They are a close-knit family.
Jan is in good health and has a group of friends whose company he enjoys.
Yet, one day Jan invites Ivan and Iris for dinner to reveal his decision to end his life on or shortly after his upcoming birthday. He calmly explains that he had been thinking about it for a while, had obtained the necessary ingredient(s) to ensure a peaceful exit and had made other necessary preparations to make it as easy as possible for them.
Jan is neither depressed nor otherwise disturbed. He simply no longer wishes to live. He had lived a good life and is ready to leave while it is still good. Before doctors, hospitals and similar places claim him and he becomes a burden to his children.
This, in a nutshell, is the synopsis of a Dutch movie Pink Moon a very good friend of mine and I went to see during the recent Dutch festival.
How Jan’s children deal with the news reveals a lot about them as individuals, but also about contemporary society.
The beauty of the movie is in its gentleness and its symbolism, in its approach to death and grief when death is invited on a certain date, rather than left to chance.
It is a topic rarely, if ever, discussed openly. This is partially because the modern age has banned death, together with old age, that inevitably brings deterioration of body and mind — the two most undesirable traits in the age of youth and beauty worshipping.
Not that any of it is by chance — when society worships youth and beauty — there is virtually no end of products, procedures, spas, clinics, diets, supplements and other countless inventions that one must purchase in order to keep oneself as young and as beautiful as possible (or as one’s bank balance allows).
From the internet to billboards to old-fashioned shop windows, magazines, newspapers, YouTube, Tic Toc, Instagram, or any public domain — the beautiful, young males and females smile at us inviting us to join them.
Dreams have never been so reachable.
As a result, millions of young people, starting at a younger and younger age, inject substances as prevention against ageing, undergo surgical procedures, follow influencers that peddle life-threatening diets, and subject themselves to countless other procedures and regimes, all in a bid to achieve their idols’ physiques.
Which, exactly as intended, forever remains just a tiny bit outside the reach… But this next product, treatment… (insert as desired) will do the trick. What it all means, in the long run, is a subject for some other article.
For now, it seems obvious that talking about old age and death is not only undesirable but avoided altogether — It will come anyway, no need to remind us, is an often utilised expression. As if denial would make it disappear.
The richer the country, the stronger the denial.
Hence the rise of life begins at 60, 70, or even 80 slogans and facilities specially designed to ensure the second (or perhaps even third) youth is not missed. You could be forgiven for wondering if someone, say, clever marketers, is making a mockery of old age while pocketing handsome profits.
But it wasn’t always like that.
History tells us that old age and death were regarded as an ordinary part of life for many thousands of years. Pre-modern societies treated old age and death with respect and dignity. Almost all cultures had some kind of assembly of elders, whose accumulated life experiences were highly respected and people sought out their wisdom. In some cultures, frail, old people were free to choose when and from where they wished to depart.
Like Jan, they wished to leave with quiet dignity.
We have likely all heard strong and often passionately debated arguments for and against elected death or voluntary euthanasia.
While I can understand both sides, what I found particularly interesting is that, for the most part, the arguments are centred around the fear of pressuring the elderly into agreeing to their death by those that stand to benefit from it. It is a clear indicator of what modern societies value (and fear) the most.
No more do I believe that anyone should be forced to suffer against their wishes, than I believe that anyone should be subjected to any kind of pressure to depart for any reason but than their own.
What I do believe in is respect and understanding.
To let go even if unable to agree with the decision.
That, I believe, is called love.
What do you think?
Let me know in the comments.
Thank you for reading.
