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? <br /><br />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.