Neither the Sea Nor the Sand

Must qualify as one of the worst films of the decade. Girl, married, goes to Jersey in winter to 'work things out'. Bumps into enigmatic chap who keeps saying urgent things like 'Reality is truth...can you understand that?' She leaves her husband for him, but his prim brother objects. 'Let's go to Scotland.' They arrive at the cottage. 'It used to be the old bakery, you know.' Not before time, Adonis succumbs to a heart attack, and the film veers into ghost territory. The girl's love somehow keeps him alive (but at least he's dumb, so can't trot out any more pearls of wisdom). Eventually, back in Jersey, she accepts that decomposition can no longer be put off, and they wander into the sea to drown. And be together. Which is no more than they deserve. Gordon Honeycombe scripted this awful effort from his own novel.