For his debut feature, Tommy Lee Jones follows in the footsteps of other fine actors who paid attention when they were directed -- Clint Eastwood, Robert Redford, and Robert Duvall spring to mind. That is to say, he comes on the scene a confident, honed storyteller. This -- with the assistance of scripter Guillermo Arriaga -- enables a film like The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. In what could be the same border town John Sayles presents in Lone Star, Jones mines a subject that's both timely to the nation, and timeless to Texans: the unexpected byproducts of illegal immigration. But the director steers clear of a heavy-handed message movie, fixating on a single Mexican, a ranch hand named Melquiades Estrada (Julio Cedillo), who is accidentally shot by an overzealous border patrol agent (Barry Pepper). As Pete Perkins, Jones the performer is no human-rights crusader; he just cares about this particular man. In keeping a promise to his compadre -- even when it involves carrying his decaying corpse across the desert on horseback -- Jones radiates an unyielding determination, kidnapping Pepper's Mike Norton and teaching him a lesson with an almost disembodied sense of calm. But the film leaves all interpretation of the characters' growth and change up to the audience, never cheating them through a big speech or a moment of dramatic clarity. Every detail feels real, and the cinematography (by veteran Chris Menges and neophyte Hector Ortega) makes the barren Mexican countryside as formidable as any wilderness on film -- a dying frontier for men of justice. Arriaga's script also effectively carries out the parallel subplot of several stolid women resigned to disappointment back in town. While its deliberate pace may not move fast enough for some viewers, those who fall in stride with Estrada will find plenty of buried treasures.