Want to see the sexiest two minutes ever committed to black-and-white film? Get thee to the bottom of this post.

Want to see the sexiest two minutes ever committed to black-and-white film, in luscious 35mm, on a big screen here in Seattle? Get thee to the Grand Illusion Cinema between tomorrow and next Thursday.

The Illusion’s screening Gilda (the 1946 crime classic from whence said sexy two minutes sprang) for a week-long run as part of a mini-Glenn Ford retrospective that began last week with Fritz Lang’s gangster drama, The Big Heat. Ford’s never been a particular favorite of mine (as a noir hero, he always felt more grouchy than tough or world-weary), but in Gilda he does solid work as Johnny, a guy working for shady gambling impresario Ballin Mundson (George Macready) in South America. Johnny’s big assignment? Keeping an eye on Mundson’s new wife, Gilda (Rita Hayworth)–a gig complicated immeasurably by Johnny’s previous (and unknown-to-Mundson) romantic entanglement with the spitfire bride.

On its surface, Gilda is a sturdy film noir directed with economy by Charles Vidor, shot artfully by Rudolph Mate, and peppered with lesser-known but awesome character actors like Joseph Calleia and Gerald Mohr. But the arguable reason it’s endured is Hayworth, whose jaw-dropping beauty and undeniable sexual charisma go hand-in-hand with her vulnerability. And the love-hate pendulum that swings back-and-forth between Gilda and Johnny feels downright modern in its execution.

Lovingly photographed by Mate in a stunner of a strapless dress and damn near fogging the screen with her sensuality as she pulls an elbow-length glove from her arm, Hayworth–almost without trying–turns the jaunty standard, ‘Put the Blame on Mame,’ into something downright carnal. Try to keep your eyes in place as she does her thing.