Old-school film cameras are flash again
Like vinyl records, film photography has experienced a resurgence in recent years. And its popularity appears to be growing, particularly with younger New Zealanders. Nicole Barratt reports.
Every day someone arrives at Auckland’s The Black and White Box asking how to load film into their camera. Often the camera is mum or dad’s old Nikon or Fujifilm from the ‘80s, dug out of the cupboard and salvaged by a son or daughter. Sometimes the cameras can be dusted off and loaded with a roll of film. Others arrive a little mouldy.
The number of Kiwis shooting film is at its peak in summer, says Lorenzo Thapliyal, one of the Ellerslie-based store’s founding members. Demand has grown and keeps the team of five staff busy. ‘‘We were developing around 250 rolls of film a month in 2015, now we’re doing 1200 a month in summer.’’
The concept of The Black and White Box is simple: shoot a roll of film, drop it off in one of their boxes in Auckland and Hamilton and wait for it to be developed. Thapliyal says 80 per cent of their customer base is under the age of 25. There’s a consistent group of middle-aged shooters too, but youth – as young as 14 – dominate their market.
Film photography has long appealed to a certain market, Thapliyal says, but it’s become far more widespread and trendy in recent years. And it makes sense: ‘‘The last 15 years of digital photography has been exciting, there’s been rapid innovation, but now the cameras are so good, consistently, the excitement has died down. It’s often about the more gritty look film cameras give. You can simulate it with digital, but you can shoot a roll and get the character of film straight away.’’
Earlier this year The Black and White Box team took a couple of boxes of disposable film cameras to sell at Auckland music festival Laneway, and sold more than 100 in a couple of hours. In a world where the number of photos we can take on our iPhones is essentially limitless, youth are being drawn to film’s slower pace. Plus, film is tangible, there are negatives and physical prints; people like being able to keep track of what they’re shooting, Thapliyal notes.
Nearly every genre of photography – sports, commercial, portraiture and photojournalism – has been upended by digital cameras. Digital has allowed the average person to take high-quality images and share them almost instantly with the touch of a few buttons. Shooting a roll of film, on the other hand, means spending time in a darkroom rinsing light-sensitive strips of plastic with chemicals, and the number of pictures is determined by how many shots are on the roll.
A basic roll of film costs about $10-$20, and developing fees sit around $20 a roll at stores around New Zealand. Kodak Alaris announced to its distributors in September that all films would endure a price jump from January 2020. Some increased by 15 per cent and others by over 30 per cent. Kodak attributed the rise in cost to an unexpected spike in demand for their films worldwide.
Some camera manufacturers have taken notes from the retro look of film cameras in designing their new digital models, though not many are selling original 35mm-film bodies. Canon discontinued its last remaining film camera in 2018.
A search for ‘‘film camera’’ on Trade Me returns more than 1000 listings. Trade Me’s head of marketplace, Lisa Stewart, says it’s seeing a growing number of users hunting for film cameras. ‘‘Since 2017 we’ve seen a 24 per cent jump in the number of sales for film cameras onsite.’’ There were 2300 searches for ‘‘film camera’’ in one week this month, up 39 per cent compared to this time last year.
It’s not unusual for Sean Aickin of Wellington’s Splendid, and his team, to develop multiple rolls of film shot on the same night by one group of friends. ‘‘Often it’ll be after a party or event, and you’ll
‘‘Shooting film means I’m more connected with what I’m doing . . . I’m present, rather than breaking that connection by looking down at a screen.’’ Sam Tanner, founder of We Shoot Film, Masterton
recognise customers in the photos because they’ve all been to the same party with their film cameras.’’
Photos are sent as scans to their customers and can be accessed online. ‘‘Literally within minutes of sending the files to someone we’re getting tags on Instagram from them putting their photos up.’’
Aickin says young people enjoy imperfections that can come with film. It has a certain charisma, in contrast to the sometimes sterile nature of digital photography. Splendid’s main market is 18 to 35-year-olds, but it’s not unusual to see younger teens getting involved.
Skate and surf subcultures can gravitate towards shooting film too, Aickin says. ‘‘Film often draws in people who are naturally creative, and surf and skate is an artistic endeavour too. You can sit and paint a surf break, but it’s easier to snap a photograph then get back out.’’
Aickin says customers come in every day looking for film cameras. The medium is pretty healthy, he says – the biggest restriction is expectations of cost and finding a film camera that works.
Mates Max BradfieldWatson, 24, and Sam Mackay, 23, have been shooting film in recent years. Bradfield-Watson has been using a film camera since 2011. He started taking photos in high school with his dad’s Nikon FM2. ‘‘I don’t want to say it was before it ‘became cool’, but that’s kind of what’s happened. Majority – if not everyone – in my friend group has a film camera now.’’ Bradfield-Watson says film seems to allow people to capture more candid and personal moments. ‘‘I definitely shoot far more personal photos on film that I would on digital. I think because you’re not getting that constant feedback like you are with digital, fiddling with settings and manipulating photos post-production.’’ His latest roll of film was shot hiking in Waipoua, but unfortunately the camera was dropped somewhere along the trail.
Mackay picked up film photography while studying at the University of Otago. He was given a Nikon FG-20 by a friend and up until that point had shot digitally. ‘‘Heaps of us got film cameras down there because they were about $20 from an op-shop or free, it was an easy option for taking photos to initially start out with.’’
Mackay has taken his film camera with him on recent travels to Fiji and Mexico. In Mexico, a noticeable number of travellers used them. He thinks film appeals while travelling because it forces the photographer not to live behind a lens. ‘‘You can’t constantly be looking at your photos, you take a picture of the wave or the scene or whatever, then you move on. Then you come back to New Zealand and develop the photos and the entire trip comes back.’’ Everyone is a photographer now and is looking for a point of difference, Mackay says. ‘‘Everyone is so into documenting their lives online compared to 10 years ago, so it makes sense that people want a more steezy (stylish, easy) way to do it.’’
That could explain the popularity of apps that give the appearance of a film photo. These days ‘film grain’ or even specks of dust are aspirational looks users can apply as a filter to digital photos via an app such as Afterlight or VSCO before sharing them to Instagram. There are even analog camera apps like Gudak that make you wait multiple days before photos are ‘‘developed’’ on your phone.
Ashleigh Brooks, 24, and Blake Zuill, 27, run wedding photography business Sapphire Studios which launched in September last year. Brooks says they wanted to create wedding photos with a genuine feel and raw look. Film photography has helped them achieve that. The pair shoot both digitally and with film for wedding bookings. ‘‘There’s definitely people who are super-amped on it and are asking for film photos specifically. Then there’s others who aren’t really aware we take film photos, but I always will shoot a roll regardless.’’
Brooks will juggle two to three cameras on the day to get a mix of digital and film photos. Packages of disposable film cameras they can provide have also proven popular with brides and grooms. ‘‘Slowly more people are asking for film photos when they book. I think people are just really appreciating that style now, it’s a certain aesthetic and a beautiful art form.’’
The couple have noticed film’s popularity surge in the last year. Plenty of their friends now own, or are in the market for, a film camera. Brooks notes that her generation of peers getting married care more about their wedding photos than perhaps their parents’ generation did, and the uniqueness of film is attractive to them. ‘‘That could be because they’ll probably be shared on Instagram. Wedding photos aren’t just one shot that sits on your mantelpiece anymore, they’re something you’ll look at and share for a long time.’’
In Masterton, the We Shoot Film club meets regularly.
Founder Sam Tanner, 28, was unaware of anyone else shooting film in the Wairarapa region when he started in 2015. He originally discovered the film community through Instagram, and eventually his enthusiasm drew in a couple of his mates to try it too. ‘‘Some of those people have fallen in love with it like I did and now their friends are getting involved too. So the We Shoot Film group is basically a bunch of friends who shoot film together and learn from each other.’’
A mix of ages and genders attend Masterton’s meetups – including Tanner’s sister and dad – but predominantly the group is made up of males 28 and younger.
‘‘It’s a mix of young people discovering this awesome analog/physical medium, as well as older people rediscovering film and dusting off their old cameras.’’
Recently Tanner and four others held a night developing their rolls of film at a local darkroom. For three out of five of the attendees it was their first time developing. ‘‘One of the guys even shot his first roll of film using the ‘Sunny 16’ method (setting the camera settings based on reading the light conditions with your eyes) and then rolled his own roll onto the developing spool! I think we’ll be doing more of these in the future.’’
For Tanner, and his fellow group of Masterton photographers, film is a way to unplug momentarily from the digital world.
‘‘It’s an analog experience. When photographing nature or people myself I find that shooting film means I’m more connected with what I’m doing – I take the shot, and I look back at the view or the person I’m photographing. I’m present, rather than breaking that connection by looking down at a screen."