Andreas from Pussy Goes Grrr here, with one of the sultriest musical numbers ever committed to film.
Nightclub acts are scattered throughout the seamy annals of film noir. For starters, you've got Lauren Bacall singing "And Her Tears Flowed Like Wine" at the casino in The Big Sleep, and Veronica Lake putting on a magic act in This Gun for Hire. Live music, cut with equal parts despair and eroticism, is just perfect for noir's postwar underworld. In Gilda, Rita Hayworth outdoes every other noir chanteuse with her unforgettable rendition of "Put the Blame on Mame." It's sexy, sassy, and bundles up the film's themes in a black satin ribbon.
By the time the nightclub performance arrives, though, we've already heard Hayworth rehearsing the song twice. She's humming along to it during her indelible introduction ("Gilda, are you decent?" / "Me?") and later, her paramour-turned-husband Johnny (Glenn Ford) catches her singing it for Uncle Pio, the old washroom attendant. Throughout, the song acts as Gilda's leitmotif, emblematic of her fearsome sexual power. It's a side of her that the jealous, overprotective Johnny doesn't want anyone else to see.
Her initial, intimate performance for Uncle Pio just aggravates Johnny. Her final, full-on striptease to the song—done with a full orchestra and a packed house—leaves him apoplectic. It's the erotic equivalent of a hydrogen bomb: even though she strips off no more than two long satin gloves, she does it with red-hot seductive intensity. She saunters up to the camera for a close-up, then sashays away coyly, with the camerawork and choreography working together like dance partners.
Even more impressive is Hayworth herself. She's not just singing and dancing; she's also acting. This scene is, after all, dramatically crucial to the whole film, and her performance is intercut with shots of Johnny rushing through the audience, trying to put a stop to it. As Hayworth struts and stretches her arms, you can see the utter resentment in her eyes. Her performance is all the more energetic and spectacular because she's doing it to get back at him. No man can control her, and she proves it by exposing the rapt audience to her sizzling, unapologetic sexuality.
The song itself reinforces these points on the surface level, too. "Mame" is every mythical femme fatale, right down to Gilda herself, and she's a force to be reckoned with, unleashing earthquakes and gunfights just by dancing. Just as the lyrics presage, Hayworth is weaponizing her body, and this dance is an act of aggression. For once, she's in control—and not just of the situation, but of the film itself. Sure enough, this scene is Gilda's centerpiece, a bubbling cauldron of satin and sex appeal.