Imagine—you’re walking down the street, and suddenly, out of nowhere, the wind blows, and a familiar smell wafts past your nostrils. You don’t know where or when it’s from, but you distinctly remember the scent from a time long past. Have you ever had this experience?
Nostalgia lives in all of us; it’s the longing to see, feel, smell, and taste the past. Try looking around your house. Find old picture albums or ask your mom where all her old cassettes are. I bet, you will get this same nostalgic feeling—whether you come across audio from an old record disc, or whether you find an old film strip. We may have been young when these things were new—hell, we might not even have been aware of them—but there’s just something about retro media that seduces us and draws us to them. Have you ever noticed how Lo-fi music uses retro sound samples and how often the sepia filter is used on Instagram? It’s as if we can almost sense the history embedded in these sounds and images, making them something so different, and yet somehow so familiar.
It’s nostalgia, in fact, that makes film photography such a novel thing.
Even in this day and age, when we strive to get perfect sound clarity, perfect image quality, and the fastest processing speeds, the film format continues to gain traction and fans. Just look at how many “film look” filters are created for social media platforms. Some digital photographers even intentionally edit their photos to look like they were shot with film cameras, and the same effect is achieved by phone photographers through apps like Kuji Cam or Fimo.
But why is this so? Most of the film cameras and film rolls in circulation nowadays are pretty much “ancient” technology. Some are even considered rare vintages, and the truth of the matter is that shooting with film requires you to spend more money compared to shooting with your phone camera or a DSLR. So why are so many people still attracted to this mode of shooting?
Today, I will focus on why most of us choose to shoot film. Don’t worry—I won’t go into the technical, theoretical side of photography; we’ll save that for another day. Instead, I’ll be focusing on the experiences I and a few of my film-shooting friends have experienced. When I asked them, “Why do you shoot with film?”, these were what came from the discussions. Keep in mind, though, that I am not a film fanatic, and my goal isn’t to convert you, dear reader, to film format. I simply want to show you why, sometimes, old-school and retro tech can be a nice shift in these modern times. It’s all still very subjective and personal.
1. The Simplicity of the Old-School
We live in an era that strives to automate and make everything highly variable—just look at how advanced our phones are now. Twenty years ago, the iPhone X would feel like Iron Man-level tech. Cameras that can artificially create bokeh? Infrared facial recognition in the palm of your hands? VR cameras that create emojis? Inconceivable.
These rapid advancements have made the world highly defined and highly efficient, but sometimes, these advancements make us lazy and somewhat less creative in our image-taking process (this does not apply to everyone, of course). Think of it this way: if I had a spaceship—and everyone else did, too—I would be able to do so much. But I wouldn’t actually do any of those things, because I’d have too many options to think of and too many expectations of what I could do with it. But if you give a toy spaceship to a kid who doesn’t know much, he would be able to conjure wonders and carry out otherworldly dreams of doing amazing things, even if they aren’t real or possible.
Ultimately, it’s not what you have—it’s what you can do with what you have. And generally, when you start with something basic, you rely more on the creative process in order to widen your possibilities. That’s why, while film cameras are more constricted in their abilities, they make the literal photographing process simpler, as you’ll be able to focus on the more creative aspects. Modern digital tech is great for advancement, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes, it’s refreshing to appreciate the romanticism of photography at its core.
2. The Honest Perspective of Life
Nowadays, the biggest discussion among big camera companies like Canon and Nikon is about who provides the best image quality and camera definition. These standards were, in fact, what many old film companies tried working towards. Have you ever realized that, back then, some images had a hazy, dreamy effect, while photos nowadays are contrasty, clear, and sharp? This is because most modern cameras have fixed the dreamy, noisy effect, which is a “defect” caused by something called ISO—the sensitivity of sensors or film exposures to light. Theoretically, it’s quite complicated, but in simple terms, modern cameras have learnt how to deal with this “defect” better by allowing their cameras to be extremely sensitive to light (Canon cameras can go up to ISO 4,000,000). In a big way, this has allowed modern cameras to better emulate the “real world”.
This leads me to explain what I mean by honest. I don’t mean how highly defined or real an image looks—it’s more about the feeling one gets when comparing an unedited film photo with an unedited digital photo of the same scene. You’ll realize that the film photo has more “character” to it. It’s hard to explain how or why, but film cameras can capture the raw beauty of people, and the dreamy, hazy, and noisy scenes of life around us. Although scenes can still be planned or dressed up for, film photography still manages to capture the honest truth of what life has to offer. It’s imperfect, but that’s what life is. You take a shot, then you move on to the next shot—content with whatever you’ve captured.
3. Film Demands You to Be More Involved
Imagine your favourite food is nasi lemak, and you’ve now got a lifetime’s supply of it. Maybe you’ll enjoy yourself for the first week, but what about in two weeks, three weeks—a month? Would it still be your favourite food then? I personally think that things are special because they might run out or they might end; having something last forever or in huge quantities just makes it lose its novelty. And that’s what I think modern photography has done to us; we have abused the actual photographing process. From having a limit of thirty-two shots per roll to an unlimited shot capacity, a single shot is now meaningless to us—just another shot in a sea of five to ten extra “backup” shots that are later deleted in search for the “perfect” one. Taking a photo has lost its value, its dazzle.
It’s because of this very reason that we no longer work to get a shot. I’m not talking about tinkering with small settings or changing apps to get better filters—I’m talking about working to get the best shot with just one snap. About only using the shot on something truly important and special, and only capturing things that truly deserve to be captured. This takes patience, planning, and fate, and it demands that you use your imagination and creative ability as a photographer to predict the outcome of the shot. It forces you to trust your ability as, keep in mind, you will only be able to find out what the actual shot looks like after a month or more.
While this might seem restrictive, it actually frees us. We are typically so worried about getting things perfect that this forces us to accept if we’ve made mistakes. Even if we’d taken a bad shot, well, at least we tried, and at least the image still has its special meaning. This freedom allows us to let go of insecurities and allows us to focus on being fully involved from the get-go, which helps us execute the shot and move on to the next one without worry.
4. Uniquely, Specially Your Product!
Why are we so willing to pay such expensive prices for artisanal, hand-picked Arabica beans which have been specially roasted and then hand-brewed by a highly skilled barista when we can easily buy instant, processed coffee from well-known brands like Nescafé? (Side note, I drink both regardless). Well, the educated, informed answer would be that the former has been specially and professionally crafted for the customer. It’s an artform, and the value isn’t placed on the cup of dirty beans you are sipping on, it’s placed on the process—the sustainable choices, and the honest work of farmers, sourcers, roasters, and baristas. The same can be said for film photography.
Look at the variants—film vs. digital. You don’t need to buy special film for your digital camera. You don’t need to worry about wasting a shot or about sending the photos to a developing house, right? It’s so much simpler and more convenient, so why go through all the hassle and pay the higher cost of film photography? Well, like with the coffee analogy, the value of photos isn’t placed on the end products themselves, but on the journey that it took you to take this one shot.
Every film roll is distinct and different. Your camera is unique and quirky. Your shots may be improperly balanced and shaky, and your developing house may cause inconsistent development. But isn’t that where the beauty lies? We are so focused today on looking outwards for measures of beauty, but what we fail to see is that these “imperfections” and “quirks” are what make us beautiful and special. Film teaches you that, and it allows you to understand that what you have created—what you have done—is notable and unique. If you’re not happy, accept it; you can always learn and change. But never, never try to fixate on the ugliness; instead, do what the Japanese do with Kintsugi. Cover your cracks with gold! Show them off and be proud!
Closing Remarks
There you go. These are the insights I have received both from self-reflecting and from talking to a few of my film-shooting friends. One very special thing my friend pointed out was that we can actually obtain interesting observations by contrasting between film and digital. If we look at them the way one approaches life, the digital format represents us trying to reach for advancement, perfection, and growth, while the film format represents us trying to be our authentic self—unique and beautifully imperfect. We should never fixate on one or the other, however. Though you are building character, shackling yourself to the past would mean being left behind, whereas being too obsessed with the future would mean losing your identity, even though you might be making leaps and bounds ahead. A balance of both is essential and maximizes growth.
Philosophical thoughts aside, though, regardless of which you prefer, both formats—film and digital—are special and important. As I said at the beginning, I wrote this not to convert you but to show what I’d learnt from shooting film. Mr. Miyagi said that everything we do has a deeper meaning to it, and he has a point, you know. That’s how we should approach life, by finding our values and building character from the things we love to do. Grow up, learn, and adapt. But please—please never lose your childlike enthusiasm, curiosity, and belief in hope.
If you’re interested in film photography, here are some resources you can look into.
a. Film and camera:
– https://famecherry.com/film-photography/
– @lomocrewz on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/lomocrewz/
b. Developing house:
– https://www.darkroom8malaysia.com/
You can also contact us, and the author will get back to you with your questions.
By Bryan Teh
Edited by Alyssa Leow & Salahaddin Pordel
The Psychronicle 