Welcome to “Wait, What?,” a recurring column in which we examine confusing or incoherent details in crime movies.
I can’t drive.
I mean, I can drive…technically… but I’m not legally allowed to. When I was 17, I passed my written driver’s exam, failed my road test, and never took either again. Not out of anything other than convenience, mind you… I lived in a city and public transit satisfied my needs and I didn’t feel a burning need to try to get my driver’s license again.
The thing is, I’m still not exactly sure why I failed my road test. I was driving, and everything seemed to be fine, and then the instructor looked at me and went “Get out. Just get out.”
No explanation, no elaboration, just… evacuation.
I’m told most people fail their road tests their first time. Driving isn’t easy. It becomes easy (I’m told) the more you practice. But it isn’t really a thing anyone just knows how to do from the get-go. I’ll say it again: no one is born knowing how to drive.
Which brings me to Halloween (1978), John Carpenter’s classic horror movie about a small-town psychopath who escapes from a mental institution to go on a killing rampage.
Michael Myers (the psychopath at hand) murdered his sister when he was six years old. After his crime was discovered, he was sent away. When Halloween begins, Michael has spent fifteen years at an institution called Smith’s Grove Sanitarum. He is now twenty-one.
When he escapes, he hops into a car and drives away. Which is… what? He can’t be driving a car for the first time… so well? He had to know how to drive before this. But how? How did he learn to drive? Was he given a tutorial as a very young child? Did someone teach him at the institution? Both of these options seem very irresponsible.
I do like that the film acknowledges this. Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasance) is informed that Michael can’t drive, but Loomis yells in response: “He was doing very well last night! Maybe someone around here gave him lessons!”
Maybe someone did, indeed! This development is never really explained. But it is oddly empowering to me? If Michael Myers can find his feet operating a break pedal and gear shift, perhaps I can too?
