Review: Kodak Retina IIc (Type 020) 135 (35mm) Film Camera

While I consider myself to be primarily a “medium format guy,” I own a great many 135 cameras as well, and really enjoy their myriad forms and feature sets — from dirt simple to sophisticated, from fully manual to fully automatic. And while there are exceptions (e.g., Rolleiflex, Duaflex, etc.), I don’t often dip into mid-century gear of any kind, since it can often be problematic (and expensive) to keep it all operational. That hasn’t kept me from lusting after some of the more revered cameras of that period, however, and in fact, I was hunting for a Zeiss Ikon of some sort when I instead took home another camera that had been on my mind: a Kodak Retina.

The Back Story

On an early August weekend, we headed to one of Denver’s “antique malls” for a look around. These malls, with their hundreds of different vendors renting booth space to exhibit their goods, can be a treasure trove — or a glorified garage sale filled with… Well, one person’s trash is another’s treasure, and your point of view dictates which of the two you might think it is.

In truth, they’re a mix of both trash and treasure, because much like eBay, you have specialist sellers who know their product — and you have generalists, inheriting things, or buying stuff from estate sales and flipping it for profit, and who know little about the stuff they’re selling. For the most part, the antique malls seem to be mostly the latter, and that’s not a great way to buy a camera. There’s a very high risk of paying way too much, although you can find bargains. There’s also a high risk of buying something that simply doesn’t work, and isn’t economical to repair.

In short, you have to know your cameras; you need to know what you’re looking for, know the pitfalls with the specific brands or models, and in particular, know how to inspect and test the camera before you buy it. And test it you should; I’ve lost count of just how many cameras are either completely inoperable, or that have major defects, or that I know will require costly servicing before they’ll work properly. Sticky (or completely stuck) leaf shutters is one of the most common issues, but there are plenty of others.

But none of that kept me from poking around and getting my hopes up a bit, and a Zeiss Ikon Contina III caught my eye:

The Contina III, on the left side, piled with all the other stuff on a display shelf at the antique mall.

The Continas are not a particularly desirable camera series it appears; they’re a pretty simple zone focusing viewfinder camera that is, I suppose, nothing special. But it still appealed to me, and while initially disregarded, we actually went back later in the day to take a closer look. Unfortunately, while in great cosmetic condition, the shutter appeared to be completely seized. For US$45, it could have made a nice shelf queen. Or, I could have taken a chance and sent it off for repair. In the moment, I chose not to do either of those things. But just down the aisle, however, something else caught my eye: A lovely little Kodak Retina IIc rangefinder 135 camera.

I’d heard of Retinas, and have seen lots of them mentioned on Flickr, Instagram, and the like, but hadn’t ever really explored much about them. I did some Googling on my iPhone from the store, did a quick crash course on them, found a manual so I could know quickly how to open, cock and fire it, then asked the staff to get it out of the display case for me to examine.

Much to my surprise, the shutter fired just fine, it wound and cocked fine, and even the slower shutter speeds seemed like they might be pretty close to accurate. The rangefinder, while a little cloudy, worked, and even appeared to me to be accurately calibrated; at infinity, the two images converged perfectly, and aligning the two on something much closer yielded a focusing scale measurement that seemed to match the object’s actual distance. The cosmetics seemed decent — a little tarnishing on the metal edges of the camera chassis — and I couldn’t find any evidence of optical issues apart from a barely detectable bit of dust in between the front lens elements. While priced at US$90, and knowing full well that the camera would likely need a CLA, I decided to take it home with me.

In the time since, I’ve learned that given the physical condition of the camera, I paid at least US$40 too much for it, but again, I was encouraged by the apparent condition. The lesson? Really do your homework fully before buying cameras and know going in what they’re actually worth. Talk to people who actually know the camera. Whether an antique mall or eBay, there are a lot of things for sale at well over their real value.

Also in the time since, I’ve very quickly fallen in love with these cameras. Since early August when I purchased the Retina IIc that’s the subject of this review, I’ve acquired eight additional Retinas. The collection now consists of three pre-war Retina I cameras (Nrs. 119, 126, and 141); and six post-war cameras: a Retina II Type 014, a pair of Retina Ia Type 015s (one with a Kodak lens and one with a Schneider), a Retina IIa Type 016, a Retina IIIc Type 021 Ausführung I — and of course the camera I’m reviewing here, the Retina IIc Type 020. I just cannot get enough of them — or their quality, their feel, or their results.

The Camera

Since that day when I knew pretty much nothing about the Kodak Retina family, I’ve learned a lot — including just how revered these cameras are, and what sort of following they have. And I’ve learned too that they appear to be a relative bargain as classic cameras go — one of the few bargains in classic cameras that are legendary, of high quality, and still generally possible to keep in working condition. The Leica M3 and the Zeiss Ikon Contax IIa and IIIa are other revered 35mm cameras from the same period as my Retina IIc, but they command far higher price points than any of the 1950s Retinas. And while the judgment is almost entirely subjective, of course, many would say that some of the Retina models are qualitatively every bit as good, and take images every bit as good. I owned a Contax IIIa for a couple of weeks, and it’s a beautiful piece of engineering — no question. But while it might be heresy to say this, I find my Retinas to be easier, more convenient and more enjoyable to use, they perform every bit as well, and they’re certainly far less expensive to acquire, or to service.

For the record, I still want a Leica M3 and a Contax IIa — but not because I think they’ll take better photographs.

In the intervening time, I’ve also learned that so much has been written about these cameras, it seems a bit arrogant to think that I can add anything to the conversation. Check out my Enthusiast Sites page, or do some Googling on your own, and you’ll find plenty of resources to learn deeply about them and their interesting history. There are several different books, some current and available via print-on-demand, as well as long out-of-print books, on the Kodak Retina series as well. But in the event you stumbled upon this page uninformed, I’ll take a swing at the basics to pique your interest a bit; it’s a pretty cool story, to be honest.

In 1931 (some sources incorrectly state 1932), Kodak acquired the Stuttgart-based German camera manufacturing operations of camera designer August Nagel, one of the founders of Zeiss Ikon — the creators of a few other notable series of cameras from the era (including that Contina III that caught my eye at the antique mall, and the aforementioned Contax IIa and IIIa). After the sale to Kodak, Nagel stayed on, and continued to deliver new designs and innovations for his new American employer.

Excerpt from the New York Times, Sunday, December 20, 1931. I have to believe that “comeral” is a typographical error; this was the era of Teletype-based wire services, and this was an Associated Press news item.

Perhaps Nagel’s most significant achievement was the creation of the 135 film cartridge system we know and still use to this day, which was the first pre-packaged, pre-loaded 35mm film cassette (or “magazine” as they referred to it in the 1930s), and the one for which hundreds of camera designs would eventually be engineered to use. Wikipedia and other sources says this was in 1934; Nagel also designed, and that year introduced, a camera to go with the new film: the Kodak Retina.

As an aside, the same Wikipedia article shows a sidebar image with the caption, “Leica I, 1927, the first camera worldwide with 135 film.” The Leica I was indeed a 35mm film camera, but considering that 135 film (35mm film preloaded in a standard cassette/magazine) wasn’t invented until seven years later, the caption is misleading and arguably incorrect. In reality, Nagel invented the 135 cassette in a way that it would fit certain Leica and Contax cameras that were originally designed to use proprietary magazines — magazines that required the photographer to load film in a darkroom. It was the Retina that was the very first camera designed specifically for the 135 film format, with its preloaded, daylight loading cassette / magazine.

Within just a few years of this event, World War II intervened, and like everything else in Germany, operations were subsumed into the overall war machinery of the country. (Reportedly, the Kodak AG facility was tasked with making fuse timers for explosives.)

Regrettably, Nagel died in 1943 — during (but apparently not because of) the war. After the war concluded, Stuttgart was in Allied-controlled territory, and Kodak quickly regained control of its operations there. Nagel’s spirit lived-on in the form of a family of Retina cameras of various flavors that were made through 1969.

An interesting side note: David Jentz of the Historical Society for Retina Cameras has been compiling research on the Retina into a series of print-on-demand books, published via Blurb. In one of the books, Jentz describes how Nagel secretly hid camera parts in a sealed bunker prior to the war, enabling them to quickly get back to business once the war ended. I’ve not yet had a chance to read the volumes in-full, but if you’re as fascinated by camera history as I am, they sound like a pretty amazing read, and Jentz continues to expand the series as of the time of this review.

Many Retina fans particularly revere the pre-war models. For my tastes, anyway, pre-war cameras start to get into territory that’s old enough at this point that they should be considered antiques, rather than merely vintage cameras. (Despite my feelings on the subject, I also own a few pre-war Retina cameras too, as noted above, and intend to acquire more.) But semantics aside, one might easily form the opinion that the post-war decade was the Retina’s heyday. Those were, after all, the “baby boomer” years, and demand for consumer goods was blossoming after the war, during which pretty much all resources and labor were devoted to the war effort itself, in pretty much every country on the planet. So, after the war ended, all that pent-up general demand — amplified in the US by soldiers returning home to start families and live the American dream in the glow of the Allied victory — made cameras a truly must-have item.

Not that the Retina cameras were a cheap mass consumer product, mind you; in today’s dollars, most of the models cost in excess of US$1,600 a piece. Not exactly something most of us have the means to get their brother-in-law as a holiday gift.

As for the models that came along in the 1960s, well after Nagel’s death, some believe that they strayed considerably from his original vision — and from the quality standard for which the earlier Retinas were known. But by then, of course, the world itself was changing, priorities were changing, and Kodak was changing, and as a result, the Retina line concluded in 1969. Many of us of a certain age think of Kodak cameras as junk made mostly of plastic, and while “cameras for the masses” was always part of the Kodak business formula, most of their cameras from the 1960s onward seem to represent the worst possible examples of that. No wonder the Retina didn’t seem to fit the mold.

But returning now to their heyday, the Retinas are in a different class altogether — the epitome of German engineering and manufacturing prowess. Heavy, durable, precision instruments — most with high quality German optics; on my camera, the lens is from Schneider-Kreuznach. Lenses were also made for the Retina by Rodenstock, and many earlier Retinas also have US-made Kodak lenses that I understand are actually quite good as well.

I think it’s reasonable to make a case that it was the focus on quality that explains why so many of these cameras are survivors — still working (with appropriate maintenance, of course), still capturing images with precision, just as they did 70 years ago.

Schneider-Kreuznach Retina-Xenon C lens, 50mm f/2.8 — the standard issue lens for the Retina IIc in the US market. (The camera to the left is another Retina.)

What makes the Retina so appealing goes beyond the quality and precision, however; the Retina IIc, and others of the Retina family, are incredibly compact for being such capable instruments. They easily fit in a pocket, and apart from the need to use a light meter (or Sunny 16, although some Retinas do have built-in meters, like the IIIc in the picture below left), they’re a midcentury answer to the concept of point-and-shoot — as compact (or more so) than many of the “plastic fantastic” point-and-shoots we used in the 80s and 90s, but so very, very much better made.

Retina IIIc, left, and Retina IIc, right.

From the earliest Retinas through the 1950s, the cameras were “foldable” — a misleading term which doesn’t mean the camera truly folds, but rather that the lens and front standard can be collapsed into the camera body and protected with a folding cover. It’s clever, easy and fun to use. Press a small button, and the lens cover opens-up, pulling the lens assembly out of the camera for use as you extend the cover to its full-open position, where it then clicks into place. When you’re done shooting, focus the lens at infinity (that’s critical to remember, otherwise you may well break something), press two small buttons simultaneously (top and bottom) to release the locking mechanism, and simply shut the door. The assembly retracts, and the cover snaps back into place. It’s elegant, and nothing about it feels cheap or fragile.

Fully open, left, partially open, right.

The Retinas had another trick up their sleeve that no modern plastic point-and-shoot had (that I know of, anyway) — (semi-)interchangeable lenses. There are just two additional options than the standard 50mm lens that comes with the camera: a 35mm wide angle, or an 80mm tele. But one interesting innovation is that the replaceable portion is just the front lens component; the rear component remains in-place. 35mm is a nice focal length for a wide angle lens, but admittedly, the 80mm tele lens is not really longer enough than the standard 50mm to really make much difference. I tend to think focal lengths of 115mm to 135mm or so is the right answer for a general purpose long lens on a camera like this, and 80mm is quite a ways from that mark.

A 35mm aux lens attached to the camera. The removed front portion of the 50mm standard lens is front right. Lens cases for the two aux lenses are visible as well (clear plastic covers).

Using the auxiliary lenses has been described as more trouble than it’s worth, but I just don’t find to be the case. There are multiple generations of these lenses, but the ones I have (more about them in the accessories section below) are the later version, and it’s pretty straightforward to use them; focus the camera the normal way, then transfer the subject distance from the focusing scale of the camera to the white-on-black scale on the auxiliary lens. Then, read the corresponding value from the black-on-white scale on the aux lens, and transfer that back to the main focusing scale. Done; take your shot. Tedious, yes — absolutely, but not difficult.

As an alternative, you can use marks on the underside of the main lens scales: one for telephoto, one for wide angle. The distance measurement of the main focusing scale, right after rangefinder focusing, can be transferred directly using these marks, and earlier versions of the aux lenses require this method.

If what I just described is confusing, Retina expert Chris Sherlock has a video on YouTube explaining the lenses and the process in 30 minutes’ worth of extraordinary detail. (You’ll also hear Chris grumble more than once about these aux lenses being a pain.) For the newer aux lens versions like I have, you can also check-out a PDF of the small manual (leaflet, really) that came with them, for an illustrated guide to using them; that’s in our Reference Library.

The focus adjustment scale can be seen on the top surface of the attached aux lens.

Truly, the only thing that I find painful about using the aux lenses is just the process of exchanging the lenses, and you need to do it over something soft and close to the camera in case something gets dropped in the process, which it easily can. You have to remove the front component for the 50mm lens, and find a place to put it, while extracting the aux lens from its case, and putting it on. The 50mm could then go into the aux lens’ case, but it’s still a lot of shuffling. Using the lenses though? Not really tough.

And speaking of lenses and the like, another thing I love about the Retina IIc? The EV-based exposure settings. I might very well be alone in this, but I’m a big fan of built-in support for EV (Exposure Value) on cameras.

Some people seem to have something against EV; Mike Eckman, whose camera reviews I actually really enjoy, spent several paragraphs of his Retina IIc review grumbling about it and how this camera implements it. Not to pick on Mike; I think a lot of this comes down to how one learned photography, and what one’s personal process for shooting happens to be, and thus what habits you’ve formed. But honestly, whether you’re into EV or not, taking a photograph with the Retina IIc comes down to:

  • Metering the scene (however you go about it)
  • Setting the camera accordingly
  • Composing and taking the picture

EV does nothing but simplify that process considerably (unless you’re using Sunny 16 exposure calculations instead of a meter, I suppose). Virtually any exposure meter, including smartphone app meters, will return an EV number that can then be set directly on the IIc. Once it’s set, aperture and shutter speed are interlocked, and you can rotate the IIc’s shutter speed ring to see and choose exactly which combination of aperture and shutter speed you want, in order to get the results you’re after.

For example, once the EV is set in place, if you’re primarily interested in depth-of-field control, turn the camera upside down, and rotate the shutter speed ring until the lever points at the f-stop value you want.

If, on the other hand, you’re more interested in freezing or blurring action, turn the camera right side up, and rotate the same shutter speed ring until the shutter speed is at the selection you want. In either case, the other setting will “follow” the changes you make, ensuring correct exposure of the film based on your meter reading.

In addition, if you want to use exposure compensation, that too is easy — you adjust one thing; lower EV = more light to the film, higher EV = less light to the film, and 1 EV = 1 stop. I can’t image anything simpler; lift and move the EV lever in the direction you want to get the desired compensation.

I should note that if you’re not a fan of EV, you don’t have to use it. Think of the EV lever on the camera (shown in the photo below) as your aperture (f-stop) selector, because that’s exactly what it is; it just happens to lock into place against the shutter speed dial.

In any case, for me, having EV right on-board the camera is just one more reason to love an already really lovable camera.

From the bottom of the camera, we can see that a small metal lever is pointing to 16 — that’s EV 16 — and to f/11. Not seen is that on the top side of the lens, the shutter speed is 1/500. The EV numbers are printed on the shutter speed dial; moving this dial to change the shutter speed automatically changes the aperture as it moves.

The Experience

After buying the Retina, since the shutter did seem to work, I decided before doing anything else to load a roll of film and shoot it through, while using the time to find where and how I might like to get a CLA done. Black and white would be the quickest path to the end result, so a roll of Kodak Tri-X 400 went in as my maiden roll. More on that below.

Film Loading and Unloading

Loading the Retina IIc is not much different than loading any other 135 camera, but there are two key features that are a bit strange compared to the 135 cameras you’re likely used to. First, the advance lever is on the bottom of the camera chassis — not the top as is much more common. (It’s on the top with certain other Retina models too, but not this one.)

Bottom-of-body film advance lever. Unique, for sure.

But secondly, the Retina IIc doesn’t reset the frame counter after changing film, and then proceed to count frames numerically forward — as is the most common behavior. Instead, once the film is loaded, you press and hold a film release button while sliding a button on the back of the camera left-to-right repeatedly to manually reset the counter. As you do this, a small frame counter window ticks along. On a 36-exposure roll, there’s a diamond mark to which you set the camera right after loading. Once you reach the mark, you’re done; you then just fire the shutter and wind repeatedly until it shows “36” in the counter, and you’re good to go. The counter then counts down with each shot, and an interlock will prevent any more shots once it counts down to “1” on the window. Odd, but it works.

The Retina IIc’s countdown film counter.

When the camera was made, 20- and 36-exposure rolls were the norm; today of course it’s 24 and 36, so to load a 24-exposure roll, you’ll treat “27” on the counter as your loading mark, then advance to 24, and off you go.

Again, once the counter reaches “1” it’ll stop allowing more shots, so if you’re used to sneaking-in that 1 or 2 “extra” shots on a roll, the Retina will not go along for that ride. (There’s a way to get around that, mentioned in the manual.) Rewinding the film is much like any other 135 camera; press a button on the bottom, and turn the knob until it’s rewound.

But here’s a bonus for those of us who process their film at home: On the bottom of the camera, the reversing button (also referred to as a “clutch button”) you press when you want to rewind the film (it’s adjacent to the advance lever) has a small dot on it. As you’re rewinding the film by twisting the knob, the dot allows you to see this button rotating. First, you’ll know you’re successfully rewinding the film. But second, when the button stops rotating, you know the film is off the take-up spool inside the camera, and you can stop rewinding at that point. It’ll leave the film’s leader outside the cartridge, looking as it does when the film is unexposed. That makes it much simpler to process the film in a way that allows you to reuse the cartridge if you’re into bulk reloading, and you can skip using a tricky and troublesome film puller tool to get the job done.

Rangefinder

The Retina is a rangefinder camera, and if you’ve not used one, they do take a little getting used to. In the case of the Retina, there’s a small diamond-shaped area in the center of the viewfinder. Within this diamond, you may see two, overlapping images. Focusing the camera involves moving a lever until the two images converge perfectly. Once they do, you’re good to go.

Hard to capture with a smartphone photo, but here’s a tour of the Kodak Retina IIc viewfinder window. There’s a bright frame showing the outline of the image frame, shown by the corner markings. The rangefinder diamond is in the very center. Converging a vertical line of some sort within the diamond is how focusing is achieved. The non-converged edge of the paper shredder slot in this image shows that the image is not in focus yet.
Zone Focusing

The rangefinder is a bit tough to use in subdued lighting, but then it’s hard to focus using any method in low light. You can always use zone focusing, of course, and to aid that, the focusing ring on the Retina shows two small circles — one for close range zone focusing, and a second for long range. According to the owners manual, these are both positioned such that using an aperture of f/8 (or smaller, meaning a larger number) with the appropriate shutter speed (you still need to meter the shot) will yield such a usable depth-of-field, you needn’t worry about focusing precision; the close range dot will provide focus from 6 to 13 feet, while the longer range dot provides focus from 10 feet to infinity. Having used this simple but clever feature a few times, it’s actually quite handy and takes all the potential over-thinking and tinkering out of it. And honestly, paired with Sunny 16, it makes the Retina IIc especially easy and convenient to use as a point-and-shoot.

Ah, the Joys of EV

I mentioned the EV functionality a moment ago. Like any camera that has direct EV support, the aperture and shutter speed are interlocked — on the Retina, it’s always locked (vs., say, a Hasselblad, where you must press a button to interlock while making changes). To set a dramatically different EV than what is currently set may require moving not only the aperture lever, but turning the shutter speed dial a bit in one direction or the other. It’s logical, and both quick and easy to master. Once you have the EV dialed-in, you merely rotate the shutter speed ring, and the aperture follows automatically. The shutter speed can be read from the top; the aperture from the bottom. It’s quite simple, then, to decide whether you want shallow or wide depth-of-field, or whether you favor blurring or freezing action — and whether the shutter speed is actually fast enough to permit a handheld shot — then rotate the dial to get what you want, knowing that the exposure will remain properly set.

And the Joys of a Leaf Shutter

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the fact that the Retina IIc uses a leaf shutter. It makes the camera more compact, I suppose, but moreover, leaf shutters are super quiet. Pressing the shutter release to take a picture, you’ll get a light click, and that’s about it. No loud pops or drama are involved, which makes the camera — especially when you use the zone focusing I mentioned earlier — terrific for street photography since it can be used in a pretty stealthy manner all in all.

One part of leaf shutters that’s not a joy is that they require regular use to remain operational, and even with regular use, they’ll still require periodic maintenance. Back in the day, you’d simply take your camera to your dealer every few years, and a guy (it was nearly always a guy back then) in the back room would give it the attention it needed, and probably even had a stock of parts if something needed to be replaced.

Most cameras Retina cameras you’ll buy will need maintenance before they’ll be usable, which brings us to the next section.

In the End, a CLA — with Unexpected Parts Required

While the camera did seem to work well, it was clear that on the lower end, the shutter was a tiny bit sticky (this is what I was just talking about), and the self-timer wasn’t working — neither of which are a particular surprise with leaf shutter cameras with age on them. The problem is that lubricants and grease used on the camera can harden over time (especially the types used decades ago), and they can also migrate along the thin shutter blades, both of which have the effect of slowing the shutter speeds.

Additionally, the rangefinder was in fact a bit cloudy. While I could get by without addressing any of those things, I did decide that a trip to a repairperson for a CLA (clean, lube, adjust) was in order. The question was where to send it.

After getting a recommendation, I ended-up choosing Paul Barden in Oregon (see my Vendor Directory) to perform the work on my camera. Expecting it only needed cleaning and lubrication, I was hopeful when I sent it off, but unfortunately, my IIc proved to be a bit resistant to the process.

There was a small dent in the top of the camera that I noticed when I bought it, but I didn’t think much of it. When Paul had the camera dissembled, it was apparent that it had been dropped once or twice during its life, and that a piece or two internally were bent. It was also obvious to Paul that it had been serviced in the past, but not reassembled completely correctly. Paul was able to set everything right, as well as replacing a missing internal part, and the missing eyepiece trim which I didn’t notice was missing when I bought the camera; both parts came from one of Paul’s donor cameras.

The eyepiece trim, before — and after.

Cleaning a rangefinder on an old camera is a tricky and somewhat risky process. Depending on how the camera was stored, and in what sort of environment, the mirror silvering can become damaged or delicate, and there are no replacement parts, or ways to restore it when it happens. When Paul set about cleaning mine, which it needed, most of the silvering unfortunately was removed. The only solution was again through a scavenged part, and I was thankful Paul had one (and regrettably only one) available for this.

While Paul spent more time than he bargained for on the camera, he was more than fair when he sent the bill, and I got back my Retina less than two weeks after I’d sent it off, including shipping time. Not bad. (Paul has since serviced several Retinas for me, and all have come back in great shape.)

This is probably a good point to mention something else about these cameras, having it experienced it more than once. Not only can lubricants harden and migrate on the shutter blades, but it can happen to the lens aperture blades as well. In many cases with Retina cameras (and I’m sure others too), users have simply pushed levers harder as the aperture blades get sticky, and doing this can cause damage to the pins that hold the aperture blades in-place. The pins can wear, and even get sheared-off. If that happens, only parts from a donor camera can help. This is another excellent reason to simply get your Retina CLA’d by a competent camera tech before you even attempt to use it. Doing so will ensure it’s in fully operational condition, and that you won’t damage it by forcing mechanisms to do things they’re not in the proper state to do well.

Back to my IIc; once I got it back in my hands, I was highly impressed, both with Paul’s work, and the camera itself. The little Retina that I was so smitten with from its first roll was now better, clearer, smoother and even more enjoyable, leading me to only one conclusion: I now totally “get” how and why people become Retina fanatics — and now, I’m one too.

In actuality, as I finish this review, and as noted above, I now own several Retinas. Most will eventually find their way to dedicated reviews here on Beyond the Aperture.

The Accessories

There were a number of accessories available for the Retina IIc, which worked with other models as well, including the IIIc, among others. The most common include:

  • Cases
    Of course, there were the standard issue brown leather cases for the Retina IIc, as there were for virtually every camera of the era. Not many seem to have survived very well, however, and while I have them for other Retinas, I do not have one for my IIc. Given how I carry my own gear, that’s fine by me.
Retina “field case” as shown in the US version of the Retina IIc manual.
  • Auxiliary Lenses
    I mentioned these earlier, but there are just two: A 35mm wide angle, and an 80mm tele. The front component of the built-in 50mm lens unscrews and can be removed; the desired auxiliary lens is then mounted in its place. (The rear lens component remains in the camera; this was a common arrangement at the time; the Zeiss Ikon Contaflex Super, for example, works the same way.) The aux lenses do a pretty decent job, but time doesn’t seem to have been very nice to many of them given the number that are in pretty poor condition on the used market. Note that the lenses are matched to the manufacturer; if your IIc has a Schneider lens, it needs the Schneider aux lenses. Likewise, if it’s a non-USA model with a Rodenstock lens, it requires the Rodenstock aux lenses. There were several iterations of these aux lenses, including what appear to be the latest of them (which is what I have), for which the so-called “bubble case” is composed of a base, and a top cap. The sides of the case double as a lens hood for the aux lens; clever! Again, as mentioned earlier, for these newer versions of the aux lenses, we have a manual on how to use them in our Reference Library, or for details on all versions of the aux lenses, check this extremely in-depth video on YouTube from Chris Sherlock.
On the later aux lenses, the lens case has three parts: 1. Bottom (left, in white). 2. Side walls, which double as a press-on lens hood, shown here in-use. 3. A clear lid (upper right in the background). Earlier versions have a similar bubble case, but without the integrated lens hoods.
  • 35-80 Optical Viewfinder (also called* a Multiple Finder)
    This component goes by a couple of different names, but it refers to the same thing: an accessory viewfinder that attaches to the accessory (cold) shoe that lets you frame your shot when the 35mm or 80mm auxiliary lenses are attached. There’s a small dial on the viewfinder that allows you to correct for parallax. A small switch on the top of the unit allows you select between the two auxiliary lenses to show the correct framing when you look through it. If you have both of the aux lenses, it’s a pretty necessary thing to have.
The Multiple Finder, mounted to the camera’s accessory (cold) shoe, with its case to the left side. On top, the 35/80 selector, and just above the camera’s viewfinder window, a dial that allows for parallax correction; it’s set to the distance shown on the focus ring’s scale.
  • Close Range and Viewfinder Kit
    This is also called* a Close-up Rangefinder, and as someone who loves close-up work with Rolleinars and Proxars in other cameras, it was a no brainer to try and find one of these kits. It consists to two close-up auxiliary lenses that attach to the front of the standard lens, one offering a 1 diopter magnification (the N I lens), and the other a 2 diopter (the N II lens). They can be used together (stacked) for a 3 diopter magnification. Also in the kit is a dedicated rangefinder that attaches to the accessory (cold) shoe, and is used in place of the built-in rangefinder. In addition to being used for focusing, it automatically corrects for parallax as well. The way it works is clever, and cool: Once you use the accessory rangefinder to focus the object, the dial scale will indicate both where to set the main lens’ distance scale for proper focus, and will tell you whether you need to use the N I, the N II, or both the N I and N II aux lenses together.

    Note that there are two variations of this kit: One is for 50mm main lenses, and one for 45mm main lenses. The scales are clearly marked for each; F=50 and F=45, respectively. The former is white, and the latter is yellow. Broadly, the F=50 version is for Retina cameras, and the F=45 is for certain Retinette cameras. See the images below.

    We also have an instruction booklet for these kits in our Reference Library.

    NOTE: If you see the N I and N II lenses for sale separately without the rangefinder, they are very likely for the latest Retina Reflex cameras — not the folding Retinas like the IIc. The kit for these cameras is the one I’m describing, with an accessory rangefinder.
The camera with the close-up rangefinder on the accessory (cold) shoe, and an N II/32 close-up auxiliary lens attached.
You use the dial to “focus” using the accessory rangefinder. Where the arrow points shows two things: First, which aux lenses to attach, and second, where to set the camera’s focus dial, in this case between the 8′ and 25′ marks. The double-ruled line indicates that the N II/32 aux lens should be used. (Single line is N I, and the triple line means N I + N II.)
From an auction listing, here’s an example of the F=45 version, which is not for the Retina IIc camera that’s the subject of this review. I’m providing it here only for reference; see the copy above for the details.
  • Lens Hood
    A lens hood can be of value in many cases, and they’re fairly common for the Retina cameras. The proper hood for a IIc is a square plastic one that attaches to the bayonet of the front of the standard lens, and is clearly marked “Kodak 50mm” on the side. It’s often sold as part of a small kit, which includes a case and three filters. I found and bought one, pictured here. The filters apparently vary; perhaps the buyer was able to choose the three that suited them when they were sold new? In any case, I have two color correction filters for color photography that are likely completely useless given today’s film stocks (possible exception: CineStill’s converted cine films, which are designed for specific color temperatures), along with an F II/32 filter — which is a medium yellow contrast filter for black and white photography (see below).
The lens hood and filter kit, opened; the hood locks into the lid, and the filter holders in the base.
  • Filters
    I wouldn’t normally bother to talk much about specific filters for specific cameras, but the numbering of the ones Kodak provided for the Retinas is very specific, and the information about them is very difficult (read: impossible) to find online. As a result, I’m going to attempt to provide a comprehensive list of them here, connecting the dots between the scant information I can locate.

    To begin, the black and white contrast filters from the mid-1950s forward are numbered sequentially using the letter “F” and a Roman numeral, such as “F IV” for example. There were also earlier filters with the letter “N” in their identifiers, also followed by a Roman numeral, and which followed the same number sequence and purpose (which I’ll list below).

    The “N” series filters I have are engraved on the front with their designator and which camera they go with. The “F” series are slimmer, and engraved on their edges.

    For the Retina IIc that I’m reviewing here, the “F” filters with a “/32” are the correct ones to use. They’re engraved things like “F II/32” — which is an F II filter, and the 32 stands for 32mm, but don’t let that fool you; it’s actually not the filter thread size, it’s the outer measurement, which is strange and rather atypical. The actual filter thread size is 29.5mm.

    Note that older “N” series filters labeled as being for a “Kodak Retina II” will also fit this particular camera, as they also have a 29.5mm thread. As near as I can tell, they fit all the Retina II and IIa cameras from Nr. 142 forward, and all the curved-front Retinas (Ib, IB, IIc, IIC, IIIc, IIIC) as well. (At least that’s what I find in my own Retina collection.)

    CONFUSION WARNING: As shown previously, the close-up auxiliary lenses are, for some reason, also labeled “N” as in N I, N II and N III. This is very confusing for obvious reasons. Clearly, for example, an N II close-up aux lens is not the same as the N II Medium Yellow filter. If you’re buying these things, or looking to buy them, you’ll want to examine photographs carefully to be sure you’re getting what you think you are.

    Here’s the list:
    • F I (N I) • Light (or Pale) Yellow
      Useful pretty much all the time in daylight, as it brings out skies better than shooting with no filter (which tends to makes skies overly light, causing the clouds to blend into them). Filter factor 1.5 (1/2 stop).
    • F II (N II) • Medium Yellow
      More intense effect than light yellow, and great for making clouds in skies “pop” a bit more. Filter factor 2 (1 stop).
    • F III (N III) • Green (or Yellow-Green)
      Green filters help lighten dark foliage so it photographs better, while slightly darkening skies and improving some skin tones. Filter factor 2 (1 stop).
    • F IV (N IV) • Orange
      Even more intense effect than the medium yellow, it nicely separates reds and greens that otherwise would appear the same in black and white. Filter factor 3 (1-1/2 stops).
    • F V (N V) • Red
      Still more intense effect than orange or yellow filters, and tends to make blue skies come out very dark indeed. If you want clouds to really stand-out, a red filter will deliver. Filter factor 7 (3 stops).
    • F VI (N VI) • Blue
      I think blue filters are underappreciated; they’re certainly not talked about much. They can be used to darken yellows and reds, a need that doesn’t happen often — but does come-up. I find them useful when photographing certain colors of flowers, and it’s really useful to shoot cars with yellow paint. They also tend to emphasize some skin tones and textures. Filter factor is noted as 2-1/2 (1-1/2 stops), but at least one reference says that no correction is needed when used in daylight.
    • F VII or F UV (N VII or N UV) • Ultraviolet
      Standard UV filter for trimming back the impact of UV on exposure in situations of intense sunlight (beaches, altitudes above 6,000′ and so on). Black and white films are somewhat sensitive to UV light (how much depends on the emulsion), essentially making this invisible light visible, since the silver halides will react to it and make it visible in the film negative. No filter factor or stop adjustment needed.
    • Other Filters
      Also available were a range of filters of limited value today that were originally designed for Kodachrome and other, primarily color reversal films whose color balance was designed for specific light types. We don’t think about that much these days, but such films still exist, of course (CineStill 800T and 50D, and Kodak Ektachrome 100D all come to-mind). In the vintage context, Kodak materials talk about a daylight filter for Type A (so-called “photoflood”) films, and conversely, a photoflood filter for daylight sensitized films. They also refer to a skylight (haze) filter for color photography. Two of the filters I own are actually none of these; I have an 85B filter for shooting Type B (tungsten) films in daylight, and an 85C filter for shooting Type F (flash) films in daylight. As I suggested earlier, the 85B filter might be of value with something like CineStill 800T film, as well as with Kodak Vision3 200T or 500T motion picture negative films which are often packaged for still use, and all of them are designed for tungsten (artificial) light and shooting indoors.
How the contrast filters are edge marked. This one is F II/32, Medium Yellow. The –1L is the stop adjustments (subtract 1 from the metered EV, thereby opening-up by one stop), and the 2x is the traditional filter factor value.
  • Miscellaneous
    There are many other accessories, and some of them seem to be a dubious value in my opinion. There’s a “camera platform” that affixes to the bottom of the camera, and provides a tripod socket in the middle of the camera (instead of to one side, as it is otherwise). The 50-80 sports finder, also called* the Retina Frame Finder Model C, which is a sports finder for the standard 50mm lens and 80mm tele aux lens. There was a very strange “close-up kit” that defies explanation. A microscope adapter. A tabletop camera stand. The Kodablitz flash gun. The Kodalux L exposure meter. A stereo attachment… The list goes on. Many of them, as with camera accessories like these for any camera, and like the separately described ones earlier in this list, are very difficult to find, and can attract a premium in many cases.

The Results

I’ll be succinct here: The Retina IIc takes some very, very nice photographs. And after Paul Barden got done giving it a good, through cleaning and adjustment, I found that the resulting images demonstrably improved.

I generally have preferred traditional grain films, but my shooting has primarily been medium format since getting back into film photography, where the sometimes pronounced grain of these film formulations is spread across a much greater surface area, and aren’t as impactful on the image as a whole — and indeed can contribute creatively to the result. But as I’ve done more 35mm, and experimented with more films, I’m beginning to really appreciate the more modern film emulsions like T-Max and Delta.

Kodak T-Max is a tabular grain (or “T-grain”) film, and while Ilford’s Delta is often called T-grain, it apparently isn’t one really; one Ilford representative referred to it in a forum post as a “controlled crystal growth” or CCG film — a term I’ve not actually seen used in Ilford literature; rather, Ilford uses the trademark of “Core-Shell” to describe their crystal technology. Both of the films are advertised as providing exceptional detail, sharpness and tonality.

I have to admit I’m not a huge fan of T-Max, and it’s entirely possible that it’s because I haven’t used the right developer with it. To date, I’ve only used Kodak HC-110 and Ilford Ilfosol 3 for my home film processing, and the results with T-Max are unimpressive, and have left me with the impression that T-Max isn’t very forgiving in terms of exposure. More evaluation is needed to be certain.

On the other hand, Delta 100 with Ilfosol 3 has proven itself to be a great combination. (Ilfotech DD-X is actually the recommended developer for Delta films, and I’ll be testing that in the near future.) The incredibly rich blacks and clear whites, with exceptional tonality and detail in between, has left me really impressed. And more to the point, the outstanding detail is providing scanned results that rival medium format. As I write this paragraph, I’ve just ordered a 100′ bulk roll to use as my first dip into the world of bulk reloading at home as an effort to both reduce the cost of film, and to enable me to have much shorter rolls — likely 15- or 20-exposure rolls — since keeping my entire camera collection in active use has proven difficult with 24- and 36-exposure rolls.

In any case, many of the following were shot on Ilford’s budget film, Kentmere 100. Kentmere is a traditional formulation, but it did provide some nice results with tonality that was similar in some ways to the Delta 100.

I hope you find them as appealing as I do.

Great Room, Castle Rock, Colorado. Shot on Kodak Tri-X 400. Copyright © 2020 Wesley King.
Sunset, Castle Rock, Colorado. Shot on Kodak Tri-X 400. Copyright © 2020 Wesley King.
Just in Case, Castle Rock, Colorado. Shot on Kentmere 100. Copyright © 2020 Wesley King.
Have a Seat, Castle Rock, Colorado. Shot on Kentmere 100. Copyright © 2020 Wesley King.
Let There Be Light, Castle Rock, Colorado. Shot on Kentmere 100. Copyright © 2020 Wesley King.
Better Days, Ramah, Colorado. Shot on Ilford Delta 100. Copyright © 2020 Wesley King.

The Specifications

These specifications are drawn from the back cover of the US version of the Retina IIc manual.

  • Film: 135
  • Negative Size: 24mm x 36mm
  • Lens
    • 50mm f/2.8 Schneider-Kreuznach Retina Xenon C, coated, 6 elements
    • Apertures: f/2.8, f/4, f/5.6, f/8, f/11, f/16, f/22
  • Shutter
    • Synchro-Compur
    • Speeds: 1, 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, 1/15, 1/30, 1/60, 1/125, 1/250, 1/500, B (bulb)
    • Release: Top of camera, or cable release
    • Self-Timer: Flash switch at “V” — 10 seconds**
    • Flash Sync: M (for F and M bulbs), X (electronic flash) via PC sync port
  • Focusing and Viewing
    • Coupled rangefinder: Superimposed image
    • Viewfinder: Optical project view frame type with rangefinder
    • Focusing range: 2-1/2 feet to infinity
  • Double-exposure prevention: Automatic with override
  • Rapid wind lever: Winds and cocks frame
  • Construction
    • Body: Diecast aluminum alloy***
    • Tripod socket: Camera base
    • Serial number: Top of camera, behind accessory shoe

Footnotes

* For unknown reasons, Kodak produced two English language versions of the manual for the Retina IIc (and, it appears, for the IIIc, IIC and IIIC). According to a brief exchange with Retina expert Chris Sherlock, the difference was the intended market; outside the US, the manual came with a “printed in Germany” version that was somewhat more brief, and which oddly, had different names for the accessories than the other version — which is why you’ll see me reference both names here. The other version was usually “printed in USA” and was apparently bundled with cameras imported into the US from Kodak AG. The US version is longer, and the content is actually different; it’s not merely repackaged. It covers more or less the same topics, just in different language and with different photos and diagrams. In any case, you can view the non-US version for the IIc on Chris’ web site, and you can download a PDF of the US version in our Reference Library.

Non-US version, left; US version, right.

** While the IIc is equipped with a self-timer, I would suggest not attempting to use it unless your camera technician has checked it and ensured it’s fully operational. Self-timers don’t tend to get that much use, so as is the case with many vintage cameras, the timing mechanism is likely quite gummed-up. And if it is, on the IIc (and other Retinas), if you trigger the self-timer in that condition, you can easily end-up jamming the shutter to the extent that it will require professional servicing to release it. Also note that it may not be possible to restore the functionality of the self-timer with a CLA; this is common as well. Paul Barden tried to get mine working, and even tried a mechanism from a parts camera, but that mechanism too could not be restored to reliable function. My second IIc, purchased since this article was originally written, has a perfectly functional self-timer. My point: It demands some caution.

The M/X/V lever on the IIc. M and X are for flash sync setting, while moving the lever toward the V sets-up the self-timer.

*** The visible aluminum alloy body trim on many Retinas was originally coated with a clear lacquer that with most examples of the cameras has not fared very well. In many (or most) cases, the lacquer has worn off, and the underlying aluminum is then prone to surface corrosion. It’s truly just cosmetic, but my IIc is a particularly early example and it suffers from this. I’ve spent quite a bit of time polishing the exposed metal with a Dremel tool, some metal cleaner/polish, and a polishing pad, but it’s not shown a lot of improvement. Occasionally, one finds a nice example that wasn’t well used and where the lacquer is still intact, but it seems unusual. Later camera bodies had a different design with chromed edges that have survived better.

The corrosion is the dark gray discoloration you see on the edge of the aluminum.

Update: September 28, 2020
Edited the sections on filters and the close-up rangefinder to clarify some of the facts, including the filter thread sizing (29.5mm vs. 32mm), and the purpose of the close-up rangefinders (F=50 is for Retina, F=45 is for Retinette).

Update: December 15, 2020
Corrected and clarified some of the information about the contrast and other filters based on more recent learning, recent purchases, as well as information found in the following:

  • Bomback, Edward S. Retina Manual, The Complete System of 35mm Photography with the Retina and Retinette, First Edition. London, Fountain Press, 1956.
  • Croy, O.R. The Retina Way, The Retina Photographer’s Companion, Seventh Edition. London, Focal Press, 1957.