Sunburst

After seeing Sunburst I'm still trying to figure out why Rudy Vallee bothered to appear in it. Certainly the audience this film was reaching at thousands of drive-ins across the country wasn't going to be buying his records.

This outdoors film which relies on a lot of nature shots to fill in the story gaps has Peter Hooten and Katherine Bauman dissatisfied with college and the imbeciles that they find going there lately. Possibly their friend Robert Englund who has gone back to the Sixties and back to nature with his tune in, turn on, and drop out philosophy may have the answer. He's off in the woods of Northern California and Hooten and Bauman are off to find him.

Unfortunately before they find Englund they run into a couple of bottom feeding inbreds played by James Keach and David Pritchard. More I cannot say because things do degenerate from here. Let's just say their actions might have stimulated a little of what goes in drive-in theaters so the exhibitors might have booked Sunburst with that in mind.

Robert Englund of course went on to play Freddy Kruger in several slasher flicks with Freddy as the central character. Vallee plays a small role as a storekeeper who still sings some of his old hits. He sounded a lot better on The Whiffenpoof Song in his prime.

Nice cinematography and Rudy Vallee, can't think of any other reason to watch Sunburst.

I can now add this worthless thing to my worst 10 movies. It is about as thoughtless and ill conceived as anything put to celluloid. The plot and the motivations are bad enough. But there are so many distractions, I couldn't believe it. First, what's with the old gang. What about the young hothead boyfriend? Shouldn't he have shown up somewhere in all of this? Why even have him get into a confrontation with the lead. Then there's the guy they're going to see. It's Freddy Krueger, playing a nice guy who spouts philosophy. He's some skinny dork who went to the woods. What about the bad guys. How do you know, "We'll never see them again"? Shouldn't someone report the rape and get after those guys. After being accosted by the two, shouldn't someone's guard have been up a bit, just a little bit? How can one analyze something so idiotic? Suffice it to say, this isn't even campy funny. I think a good conclusion would have been an enormous meteor landing on the entire bunch. Oh. I forgot Rudy Valee. What the hell is he doing there?

Filmed in 1975 as "Sunburst" until it was released on VHS in the eighties retitled "Slashed Dreams" to take advantage of Robert Englund's popularity during the "Nightmare on Elm Street" craze, this seventy-four minute exercise in hiking and rape is an absolute waste of film and can't even be saved by the curvaceous Kathrine Baumann's wasted nude scenes. Written by Stacy Keach's brother James, who will always be Deputy Halik from "Moving Violations" to me, "Slashed Dreams" is about two life long friends, Jenny and Robert, who go hiking into the wilderness of Northern California to visit their mutual friend Michael played by Robert Englund who doesn't show himself until the final twenty minutes of the film. Why going to see Michael is so important to Jenny and Robert is never explained only that Jenny really wants to see him. Fair enough. The first forty-five minutes consists of the two traveling north and hiking through the woods. Sound like fun? It isn't. Nothing significant happens at all so why film any of this? While Jenny and Robert go skinny dipping they are spied on by two token hillbilly mountain boys Danker and writer/actor James Keach as Levon. Once the pair set their sites on Jenny's pair, well, what do you think goes through their minds? Later that night they return to rape Jenny. Enter Michael who says little and provides next to nothing as far as support except for some hippie rambling about "driving the devil out of your house". Way to counsel Freddy Krueger. Robert tries to redeem himself by fighting the rapists but, no shock here, he doesn't succeed. Afterwards Jenny comes to the realization that all is well. End of movie. What?

If this summary doesn't stop you from watching this mess than let me deliver the dagger to your heart in the form of Roberta Van Dere. Who is she you ask? She's responsible for singing all of the songs on the soundtrack and by singing I mean tone deaf caterwauling that is so annoying that I attempted to drive pencils into my ear canals. Her singing is so bad it defies belief that someone listened to her and said "you should do this professionally". Every song sounds exactly the same even her inappropriate howling following Jenny's rape. A cat thrown into a dryer would have sounded better than her. Do yourself a favor a leaf through and old Reader's Digest rather than waste your time on this crap.

Probably the only reason this amateur hour snoozefest isn't on the IMDb Bottom 100 list is that almost no one has seen it. If they had, it would have easily surpassed "Manos: The Hands of Fate" and "Baby Geniuses 2" as the most excruciating home movie ever. In fact, "Manos" now looks like a profound work of art in comparison, and perhaps deserves a reevaluation.

There's almost no way to describe the incredible badness of "Slashed Dreams"/"Sunburst." It goes way beyond the Mystery Science Theater 3000 level... and of course never comes close to hitting that so-bad-it's-funny, level -- just goes on and on in an early '70s, 16mm Ektachrome so-bad-it's-painful mode. Like a couple of high school kids went out in the woods with a camera. But a couple of high school kids with prefrontal lobotomies. We're taking no story here. No pace. No connection to reality and no idea how a film is actually made... however they did manage to obey every single Stupid Rule of horror films ever invented: kids go into woods, kids are threatened by maniacs, kids don't even CONSIDER leaving woods -- check. Girl is raped by maniacs, guy does absolutely nothing, and then they STILL don't even consider leaving woods -- check.

And in the middle of this lobotomized "Deliverance"/"Easy Rider"/"Last House on the Left" hybrid with a "Friday the 13th" poster, who shows up but of course, Rudy Vallee. Yes folks, Rudy Vallee. Just made sense I guess for the legendary 1920s jazz crooner to be included in a home movie thriller about a woman being raped by inbred hillbillies. All the sense in the world.

But far worse than Anything Else is the screeching, shrew-like banshee wail of some Joan Baez wannabe plastered over the home movie footage every ten minutes or so in order to convey the Tragic and Sensitive Nature of this very Profound and Serious Film about Rape.

Nurse, please hand me the leucotome. And welcome to hell.

this is one of the darkest films i've ever seen. certainly, it's one of the most politically incorrect. it may have been packaged as a sex and violence exploitation thriller, but it could be thought of as more along the lines of an existential art film. it really goes beyond the need for a numerical rating; it practically inhabits a universe unto itself. yet at the same time it in some ways is VERY MUCH of its time. it's a post-"easy rider," post-youth culture seventies burnout epic. "good" doesn't triumph over "evil." in fact, the fact calls into question the validity of such categories. a woman is raped and learns to "accept" her ordeal as a part of life. the rapists are never punished and the crime never even appears to have been reported. as far as i am concerned, the film goes a BIT too far. it's existential acceptance of human suffering ends up as a kind of complacency. authentic existentialists generally see human suffering as largely meaningless and hence unjustified. yet director polakof seems to ask us to view suffering as justifiable, as part of "the plan," as part of "fate." nonetheless, he takes the viewer on a "realistic" journey instead of giving us fairy tales and revenge fantasies. as a result, "slashed dreams" stands apart from both common exploitation fodder and whatever kind of product the "mainstream" motion picture industry is putting out these days.