Rozema also breaks the fourth wall with playful intertitles (“Meanwhile, back in the land of the living”) and inserts shots of a young girl reading a fairy tale—reminding us that this is, at heart, a fable. A lesbian fable with a happy ending. In 1995, that was radical. Camille teaches the myth of Icarus—and warns against flying too close to the sun. Yet Petra is a sun. The film’s quiet genius is its refusal to demonize Camille’s faith. Instead, Rozema asks: What if the divine is found in the flesh? In one stunning monologue, Camille confesses to a priest not sin, but love. The priest, horrified, offers scripture. Camille offers nothing. She simply leaves.
For younger viewers discovering it today, what shocks is not the sex—which is remarkably chaste by modern standards—but the joy . There is no homophobic violence, no deathbed goodbye, no obligatory apology. There is only the terrifying, glorious business of two women choosing each other against the weight of a world that says no. when night is falling -1995-
What follows is not a coming-out story. Camille knows what she feels. The drama is not discovery but surrender —to desire, to the body, and to the terrifying freedom of falling in love. Rozema, who wrote, directed, and edited the film, had already announced herself as a singular voice with I’ve Heard the Mermaids Singing (1987). With When Night Is Falling , she pushes further into the dreamlike. The film is drenched in metaphor: water as rebirth, fire as passion, ice as repression. Cinematographer Douglas Koch bathes the screen in deep blues and warm ambers, turning Toronto into a city of perpetual twilight—a liminal space where rules loosen. Rozema also breaks the fourth wall with playful
Patricia Rozema once said in an interview: “I wanted to make a film where two women fall in love and nothing terrible happens.” Mission accomplished. And in a world still fighting for the right to love freely, that’s not just art. That’s an act of hope. Directed by Patricia Rozema Starring Pascale Bussières, Rachael Crawford, Henry Czerny Available on digital platforms (Criterion Channel, Kanopy, and for digital rental). Camille teaches the myth of Icarus—and warns against
Thirty years later, Patricia Rozema’s sensual, lyrical romance remains a defiantly beautiful outlier—a lesbian love story unafraid of magic, myth, or happy endings.
In one now-iconic sequence, Camille and Petra make love on a frozen lake under a full moon, their bodies reflected in black ice. Later, they tumble into a swimming pool fully clothed, their laughter echoing like a baptism. These are not sex scenes as provocation, but as prayer: ecstatic, tender, and unapologetically beautiful.