Walking the Edge (filmed in 1982/ released in 1985) is part of a group of violent thrillers made in the 1980s- the cycle started with the likes of The Exterminator (1980).  And while sharing similar concerns and approaches to 1970s theatrical grindhouse movies, these films usually enjoyed brief cinema runs before making the rest of their money on the emerging VCR / home video rental market.

Walking the Edge is low budget but professionally made, unfussy aesthetically and has a propulsive energy based on a tight narrative and frequent violent set pieces.  The film itself also benefits from scripter Kurt Allen’s excellent characterization and salty, on point dialogue.  It has an accomplished ‘street’ score by composer Jay Chattaway which screams ‘80s with its burbling synths and elements of jazz and funk.

The film concerns Los Angeles cabbie and numbers runner Jason Walk (Robert Forster) and his attempt to save Christine Holloway (Nancy Kwan) from a group of local thugs who killed her husband and son and are now pursuing her for the murder of one of their number.

Primarily a crime/action movie, Walking the Edge blends in elements from associated genres.  There is the trope of the ‘wronged woman’, most familiar from ‘rape and revenge’ thrillers.  Kwan acquits herself well in the role of the traumatized woman avenging the death of her innocent son after a shakedown of her secretly drug-pushing husband by criminal associates goes wrong. There is also the gangland element and all three of the main bad guys are nicely delineated, particularly their boss.  As the chippy, slimy Brusstar, familiar thickset heavy, Joe Spinell is clearly enjoying himself.

Finally, and most saliently, there is a criminal’s redemption arc of sorts.  This may be secured through Jason’s violent retaliation but it has the effect of removing Christine from danger, avenges both her son and Jason’s murdered buddy Tony (A Martinez) and allows Jason to put behind him his connections with the underworld and forge a new life with the widow.

This last aspect showcases Walking the Edge’s greatest asset, its star, Robert Forster.  Although Forster only came onto the movie scene in the late ‘60s, as an actor he is most reminiscent of the male stars who dominated the American stage and screen in the 1950s; Montgomery Clift, James Dean and Marlon Brando.  Forster shares with them a soulful, blue-collar quality and the sense of a buried well of hurt or anger.  He most resembles John Garfield, a progenitor of the breed. Garfield was the star of the left-wing Group theatre and in his subsequent career made film noir classics like Body and Soul (1946) and Force of Evil (1948).  Walking the Edge’s director, Norbert Meisel, a fan of Garfield, sensed Forster’s kinship with that actor, with whom he shares a quality of reasonableness and imperturbability masking that repressed anger and this has informed Meisel’s approach to story and characterization.  Jason Walk is in the tradition of the ambivalent, sensitive heroes of some ‘40s and ‘50s thrillers and westerns.  He is reluctantly violent when pushed but affable in his usual interactions and chivalrous towards women (Forster has great chemistry with both Kwan and Martinez).  This essentially old-fashioned approach gives Walking The Edge a distinctiveness and humanity at a time when many action films were dominated by beefcake juggernauts.

There are all sorts of incidental pleasures afforded by this movie.  Billboards on freeways advertising the likes of Star Trek II:  The Wrath of Khan and Creepshow will have viewers of a certain age cooing nostalgically.

Then there is the cult appeal.  Forster of course became freshly famous after appearing in Quentin Tarantino’s Jackie Brown (1997).  But also Joe Spinell, beyond his impressive credits with Coppola, Scorsese et al is prized among movie cultists for the trio of films he made with beauteous British fantasy/horror icon Caroline Munro where his sinister character has designs on her (the fun ‘Star Wars’ rip-off  Starcrash (1978), The Last Horror Film (1982) and William Lustig’s original notorious Maniac (1980)).  Spinell and Munro make for one of the odder double acts in cinema history. Walking The Edge is a decent thriller which combines its visceral thrills with a good deal of heart. 

The movie is made available here in a new Blu-ray as a collaboration between two boutique labels UK’s Radiance Films & US  Fun City Editions.  It features a fresh 4K restoration from the original 35mm camera negative.  The disk comes supplied with a host of extras.  A new commentary has film historian Chris Poggiali and film producer Matt Warboys discuss the production background of the film. A second commentary, originally presented on an Anchor Bay DVD release from 2000, is more informal.  It features reminiscences from director Norbert Meisel and stars Nancy Kwan and Robert Forster (who passed away in 2019).  There are three featurettes.  The first, Scoring the Edge, has composer Jay Chattaway discuss his work on this film and associated exploitation items such as William Lustig’s Maniac and Vigilante (1983) which also starred Forster. Chattaway’s talking head is superimposed over a graphic of the Enterprise bridge set from Star Trek:  The Next Generation.  He was the composer on all the initial sequel shows of the Star Trek franchise from ‘Next Generation’ to ‘Star Trek:  Enterprise’.  The second featurette, Det. Jurgensen Remembers Forster and Spinell has Randy Jurgensen, former NYPD detective, a consultant on crime dramas like The French Connection (1971) and The Godfather (1972) and bit player in same, reminisce fondly about the deceased cult stars.  Finally Breaking Point is a new video essay by filmmaker and YouTuber Chris O’Neill in which he gives a heartfelt assessment of Robert Forster and his career. The Blu-ray also features an original release trailer and image gallery.

Looking, as the cliché goes, the best it has since its original release in this clean and colourful print, Radiance Films/ Fun City Editions should be commended for making Walking The Edge, a minor gem, available to audiences again in a dedicated and deluxe edition.