THE BORDER (1982) *** Elpidia Carrilo is as natural and effective as the noble savagette as Valerie Perrine is as the profligate belle of the southwest Texas condo circuit. Their scenes are strung together by border guard Jack Nicholson, refusing to rise above the material or stray far beyond his own ill-defined ethical boundaries. It is open to interpretation which of the ladies' squalor is the worst, most genuinely debauched or most immoral, but there is no question that all-consuming consumerism is ultimately the most defeating. Jack strides through it all in shades, but not typically arrogant, more properly offended, even frightened. Much has been made of the concluding histrionics, but those offering the complaints have not considered how many scenarios of corruption offer nothing but a similar end, if only the protagonist would stay true to his moral compass and refuse to capitulate. The indictment of our epoch is that so few do. You have to look hard, but in the concluding moments a series of coincidences offer a spiritual aspect to the drama, one that goes unnoticed even by the principles as they battle for continued existence. Great organic musical accompaniment, modern country in ways that accentuate how far the ranchers and campesinos have strayed, by Ry Cooder, John Hiatt, and Freddie Fender.