I’m far from the first person to point out the recent revival of analogue technologies. Ever since the late 2010’s, both vinyl records and film have seen a steady rise in sales and consumer interest. Strangely this phenomenon is not as nostalgia-driven as one might assume. Most of the people who are buying vintage film cameras or roam around record stores are in their 20’s. They were born long after these technologies reached their heyday.
So what is the appeal? To me it clearly seems that what these people are looking for is a sense of connection with these mediums. In a world where streaming platforms – such as Spotify – offer millions of songs and any smartphone is capable of taking good pictures, these things seem to have lost some of their materiality. We are virtually overwhelmed by an endless stream of choices, yet none of the songs we listen to or the pictures we take truly belong to us. They are virtual, intangible echoes.
Physical media like records, 35mm film and even DVDs do more than provide a reassuring sense of permanent ownership; they sell the consumer a tactile experience. The thrill of browsing for old vinyl discs in a store, the slap of an SLR’s mirror, the whirring of a DVD player revving up: these are all things that the virtual world cannot replicate.
In a world where everybody seems to suffer both, from a sense of audio-visual overstimulation, and a lack of connection with the things they consume, these outdated technologies seem like the perfect antidote. I certainly believed so – and it seems many in my generation feel the same. But lately, there is something about the modern film photography culture that I have found increasingly troubling.
I first began my film photography journey during COVID after purchasing an old East German Pratika SLR at a flea market. It was a simple but durable camera that made for a fun shooting experience. Soon, I upgraded to a nicer Olympus and even ventured into medium format photography. What drew me in wasn’t just the grain and colour rendering of the film, but above all, the idea of being able to freeze a moment in time on something tangible and lasting. Once an image is fixed on a negative, it can no longer be modified or removed.
Film negatives can last over 100 years and possess an effective resolution not dissimilar to that of a modern day digital camera, if developed and enlarged correctly. In an era where manipulating images via photoshop or generative AI has become frighteningly easy, film photography seems to offer up a sense of authenticity. What you shoot is what you get.
But that promise of authenticity is often wasted. Surveys reveal that most people never collect their negatives from the lab after having their film developed.
Instead the majority of film photographers shoot film purely to obtain digital image files to upload on social media, discarding the actual pictures taken. This is baffling, especially given the ever increasing price of film. The average “budge” roll of 35mm consumer film, with development and scans, costs about £24. More premium options easily doubling this price.
Given the financial struggles of our generation, this is clearly not sustainable. By not developing and printing their film, many miss out on the analogue nature of analogue photography. They not only enhance the shooting experience, but also bring the cost of film down dramatically. However, few people today are privileged enough to have access to darkroom facilities.
So what’s the alternative? Consider this: professional digital DSLR’s from about 10-15 years ago provide much of the same experience as film SLRs without the hyper digital nature of modern mirrorless cameras. You look through a real viewfinder, not a screen. You hear the satisfying click of a mechanical shutter when you take a shot. These cameras are sturdy, affordable and take characterful images.
While they don’t fully replicate the film experience, their more manual nature should make any casual film shooter happy whilst saving him or her a lot of money. Although digital SLRs won’t be able to fully replace the joy of developing and seeing physical negatives for the first time, they still provide an enjoyable semi-analogue experience. Personally, I’ve decided to relegate my film cameras to the role of decorative objects on mantelpieces. Unless film prices drop drastically in the coming years, that’s where they’ll have to stay. As for their replacement, I decided to invest in an old Canon 5D Mark II, an insider tip for all those on the lookout for a digital SLR.
