Caine is Harry Anders, an ex-Mi 6 man running a London jazz club. When US ambassador's wife Young rear-ends him, a torrid affair looms around the corner, and the unbelievably pliant Caine is soon tracking down one of Young's ex-lovers (who she's afraid is tabloid-bound with their affair). Caine soon finds the toy boy with a bullet in the brain, Young mysteriously disappears, and Caine finds himself embroiled in a rather ludicrous illegal arms sales plot relying on a series of "surprise" revelati
Setting Hollywood-style romantic-thrillers in London starring the always dependable Michael Caine with a blazing firearm in one hand and hot babe on the other sounds groovy, but this lame duck whodunnit misfires from the start.
Whoops! I forgot to tell you my boyfriend was an undercover agent. Whoops! I forgot to tell you about these strange numbers he read to me over the phone before he died, etc. Featuring another spectacularly wooden performance from Young, Blue Ice - named after something big and unexpected landing in your life, like a chunk of "blue ice" off a plane's loo - is filled with a string of not terribly thrilling action sequences, an embarrassing villain spotted from the word go, and a tearful parting scene that Mulcahy should have been banned from directing.
Indeed, apart from an MTV-inspired drug interrogation scene lifted directly from Jacob's Ladder and Mulcahy's own Ricochet, Blue Ice is sedate, uninspired and thoroughly derivative.