Named for Roger Rabbit’s bunny fatale but pioneered long ago in the days of black-and-white thrillers, this is all about Working It. The key, to borrow from ZZ Top, is (a) having legs, and (b) knowing how to use them. Someone who fits the bill perfectly is Lana Turner in 1946’s The Postman Always Knocks Twice. She makes John Garfield’s eyes do that Tex Avery thing when she introduces herself with a rolling lipstick and a particularly lucky doorway. It’s an effect matched when Barbara Stanwyck appears at the top of the stairs clad only in a small towel in Double Indemnity, Cyd Charisse returns Gene Kelly’s hat with her stockinged leg in Singin' In The Rain and Rita Hayworth breathes ‘Sure, I’m decent’ to Glenn Ford in Gilda. The Grace Kelly approach, looming like an angel over Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window, is also glorious.

Skip past Lolita underage come-hithering and Angela Hayes’ cheerleading in American Beauty – nothing to see here! – in Kubrick’s melodrama and learn from Sugar Kane Kowalczyk, Marilyn Monroe’s jazzy dazzler in Some Like It Hot. She announces herself with a masterclass of showboating on a station platform and enough tush-wiggling to make a train whistle ("It's just like jello - on springs; it must have some built-in motor or something"). It’s an effect matched by Cameron Diaz in The Mask and Ursula Andress in Dr. No (two intros for both character and movie star). Slow motion is your friend here and even if you’re not a lady, you can still flaunt your gifts. At least, you can if you’re Jesus in The Big Lebowski or Ted’s blonde bombshell, Sam Jones.