A 1995 movie about a couple whose car breaks down in Mexico in a town where all the natives fuck like crazed weasels gets back in circulation as Vivid continues to mine its vaults for new DVD releases.

Although I couldn't find multiple angle coverage (the age of the footage predates DVD), the superlative transfer of the luminous cinematography by Ralph Parfait and the sheer star power of the now-retired Celeste make up for any shortcomings on the tech front.

Centerpiece, an outdoor nighttime orgy with 20 or so players, won an AVN Award for Group Sex Scene and still packs a wallop.

A faithful husband (Steven St. Croix) takes his mistress (Celeste) down Mexico way for an impassionate tryst, and the affair reaches new heights of sexual ecstasy as malicious forces attempt to destroy the lover's bliss. In keeping with Paul Thomas' distinctive directorial style, the erotic episodes are all choreographed with a sense of "intimate distance;" that is, we enter into the character's bedrooms and observe their lust, while at the same timekeeping enough perspective so that we funny savor the complex emotions that boil beneath the surface.

In a stiflingly hot scene, Celeste and St. Croix enter a candle-lit cantina, where a trashy sex video growls from the TV above the tables. Intoxicated by the couples fucking on the screen, Celeste succumbs to her pent-up urges and dreams of standing naked in a barn, frigging herself with a vibrator as she watches the video stars unleash a fury of anal, oral and conventional sex.

A romantic, almost lyrical segment unfolds as Celeste and St. Croix ride a burro-driven wagon through the town, and Celeste eagerly swallows St. Croix's cock, oblivious to the eyes of the serape-draped host of their impromptu excursion.  Bright, dazzling sunlight contrasts the naughty nature of the outdoors blow-job, which Celeste thoroughly enjoys, but which causes St. Croix to experience unexplained pangs of guilt and remorse.  The difference in the personality of the two lovers soon becomes evident, and we sense that the thrill of their illicit love may be short-lived indeed.

The finale takes place at a reckless fiesta under the full moon, where Felecia, dressed as a triumphant matador, subjugates naked "bull" Jill Kelly, before an all-out orgy with the star-studded cast explodes on the dusty ground like a piñata filled with TNT.  Nici Sterling, Celeste and Tabitha, to name a few, open their collective asses to the sombrero-topped studs as the mariachi music lends spice to the tequila and cum-drenched participants.  You can almost smell the sweat mingled with charcoal and cheap perfume.  

The Mexican atmosphere is meticulously researched, lending an aura of primitive abandon to a world that can only be called seedy and unforgiving.  Music and lighting are both top-notch, and the Borderline experience bears likeness to a disturbing dream that keeps one locked in a landscape that is at once frightening, corrupt, and incredibly stimulating.

Borderline scores as remarkable couples fare, which respects the women's motives without failing to gratify the groin-inspired cravings of the men. If you haven't already designated a Couples Choice portion of your adult area, this is the perfect time to do so. Borderline ushers in another era of innovation for Paul Thomas and the artistes at Vivid Film, and your store will undoubtedly share the lucrative results of their vision.