Jacqueline Bisset has done a lot of dying in her past three films - cancer twice, and a terrible accident - but seldom to such good effect as in Christopher Münch's delicate and highly intelligent study of a woman whom "no man could ever quite forget". Bisset plays the eponymous gal, a Florida late-night radio DJ, Frances, whose voice holds a whole town in thrall.

The woman behind the voice is just as magnetic, a guilt-struck seductress with an over-developed social conscience who cannot help herself, never mind anyone else. Having left so many lives at a loose end, a tumour sends her frantically trying to tidy up, while obsessing about her twin passions: architectural preservation and the minutiae of the American war of independence.

She is followed around by her son, who itches to settle scores, played with a wonderful stillness by Nick Stahl. Her daughter, whom she gave up many years before, is now a corporate lawyer and conservation buff, and is trying to track her down. Her own mother is still alive, and still haranguing her for not having a car.

In other hands, this could all have been terribly contrived. But Münch's subtle story, shot using natural light and clearly edited by hand, unwinds in all sorts of surprising ways. And it is worth seeing just to watch Bisset go from coquette to corpse in one breath.

At the UGC tonight. Box office: 0131-623 8030.