A seedy fake evangelist rolls into a small midwest town with a broken truck and kills time waiting for repairs by fleecing the out-of-work populace. This too-familiar revival drama is equal parts The Rainmaker, with the conviction of neither; it begins somewhere in the neighborhood of light satire, hits a bump at serious drama, and stalls. Martin’s fast-talking self-assurance is convincing enough; so is Winger’s grounded performance; very little else is. A modest sleeper (with more narrative closure) might lurk under the hood of this over-produced spectacle, but it never opens up.

Allied commandos and Greek partisans team to destroy a massive gun emplacement on the Greek isle of Navarone, clearing the way for a naval evacuation of 2,000 isolated troops. This first-rate production is one of the better entries among the spate of big-budget WWII actioners from the late 1950s and early ’60s (besides being a critical success, it was the top-grossing film of 1961). Memorable performances from Peck, Niven, and Quinn make this well worth the price of ission; best is the charged scene (and aftermath) in which demolitions expert Niven, discovering sabotage, delivers a powerful monologue. Followed dubiously in 1978 by Force 10 from Navarone.

Two Army men working as a Casualty Notification Team struggle with their assignment and with inner demons. Impressively accomplished film from first-time director Moverman is deliberately paced, powerfully acted, and possibly even better than The Hurt Locker—the other notable film from 2009 about the war in Iraq. The Messenger is moving, especially when focused on the various notifications, and the tenuous, budding relationship between the characters played by Foster and Morton; their encounters are charged with strong emotion, yet balanced by restraint, and the tension resulting from their impossible situation is what makes each scene with the two so compelling.