My film camera collection has grown over the course of the COVID-19 pandemic — both as I’ve stopped spending money on things like vacations and shifted those dollars to spending on cameras, and as I’ve gotten into restoring and repairing cameras, which involves buying cheap, derelict cameras with a hope of returning them to service. (Sometimes, as with my Yashica-D, it’s been a massive success, too.) But as my film camera collection has topped 130 examples, I’ve been thinking lately about which ones I shoot, which ones I want to shoot more, and which ones I’d keep if I ever chose to downsize. This article is the result of that thought process; a Top 10 (or so) list of some sort, I guess you could say. And foreseeing that my opinions might shift with time, I’ll just label this as being for 2022.
#1 • Hasselblad 503CW
6×6 Medium Format SLR Camera
When speaking with people about my cameras, I’ve said many times that I were forced to get rid of every camera I own except one, the camera left standing would be my Hasselblad 503CW. That’s been the case for at least two years, and it remains true today. It’s also the most valuable camera in my collection — primarily because so many other people seem to feel the same way about Hasselblads, and of course, the company hasn’t made a film camera in years. (They’re also hardly the same company today, given that they’re now owned by a Chinese drone maker.)
For decades, the Hasselblad was pretty much the choice of professional photographers, and in my younger years working in marketing, I remember attending dozens of photo shoots for ad layouts, collateral material and the like, and every single one of the photographers I encountered used one in the studio. The distinctive sound of releasing the shutter, the sharpness of the resulting images, the precision of the entire system — it’s what makes a Hassy a Hassy.
That being said, I believe that easily 85% of what makes a Hasselblad so good has nothing to do with the camera itself — it’s the lenses. And the exceptional Carl Zeiss glass that Hasselblad sold for their cameras is the main reason they’re such incredibly good picture-takers. I mean, truly; what does the camera body do? It holds the lens in accurate alignment with the film plane, it keeps the film flat, and it operates a secondary shutter. (The primary is in the lens itself.) Yes, the camera has more to it, but the resulting images are primarily the result of the lenses, not the camera.
But taken as an outfit, I won’t be letting go of my Hasselblad 503CW, its three lenses, or its three film backs, until someone pries each one from my cold, dead hands.
#2 • Graflex Pacemaker 23 Speed Graphic
Multi-Medium-Format Press Camera
A relatively recent addition to my camera collection, this camera has come roaring into my Top 10. Given that my camera celebrated its 72nd birthday in February 2022, I suppose I’m as surprised as anyone.
The Graflex Graphic cameras are iconic, at one point dominating professional photography, at least in the United States where they were made. It’s hard to find a scene in a movie made or set in the 1940s or 50s that depicts a newspaper photographer, and have that scene not include a Graflex Graphic, typically the 4×5 large format models like my other Graflex Graphic. But the 4×5 models were not the only ones in this camera family. In fact, when the company decided to revamp the Graphic line-up with the introduction of the Pacemaker series after World War II, it was the 2×3 (nominal; 2¼ x 3¼ inches actual) models that came first as a way of testing the market.
What makes the Pacemaker 23 hit my list at #2 is that it provides a flexible, and rather technical shooting experience. You can change the lens if desired (though only a small range was ever offered for them). You can focus it with scale or zone focusing. You can use the Kalart rangefinder mounted on its side. Or, you could open the hood and focus with the ground glass. You can compose the frame with the tubular viewfinder. Or the sport finder. Or once again, the ground glass. You can shoot sheet film. Or roll film at 6×9. Or 6×6. Or 6×7. And with a Speed Graphic, you can choose to use the front leaf shutter, or the rear focal plane shutter — that gives you the bonus of being able to choose a lens in a barrel mount. In a word, choices… Choices… Choices…
But the real clincher with this camera though is the unexpectedly superb results. The chunky and somewhat clunky and inelegant camera design, with its small, midcentury lens, doesn’t seem like an ideal combination for excellent results, and yet, it delivers — and is both challenging, and enjoyable to shoot.
#3 • Mamiya 645 1000S
6×4.5 Medium Format SLR Camera
It seems a 6×4.5 camera should be next up, especially since my first true medium format camera was a Pentax 645. While I love my Pentax, the Mamiya takes this spot simply because it think it’s a better made camera that’s more enjoyable to use, and unlike the Pentax, doesn’t force a motor drive down your throat (along with its heavy batteries). Saying that the Mamiya is better built is really saying something, because I don’t generally find Mamiya’s build quality to be all that great as a rule. They are good cameras, no question, but I often sort of wonder how they keep working given how many of them look like the camera equivalent of an old beater automobile.
The 1000S, or mine anyway, is an exception to that rule. I was fortunate to see my M645 1000S sitting on a shelf shortly after the dealer took the camera in, and it’s a pristine, mint-condition example that is a truly rare find. Perhaps that’s the reason I’m so in love with it — it works as if it was brand new, and looks the part too. I have both waist-level and prism finders for the 1000S, and both are a joy to use. Mamiya’s myriad lenses for their 645 cameras are, when in good condition anyway, excellent. And there’s a wide range of accessories, including a great grip that I particularly enjoy using.
But the real proof of the M645 1000S is the superb images that it’s capable of producing. While 6×4.5cm (nominal) is not my favorite medium format negative frame size, it nevertheless provides a lot of real estate on the negative — enough for great detail and fine grain — while being a little more miserly with the film (15 frames per roll) than 6×6, 6×7 or 6×9 cameras.
In addition, the 1000S is fairly compact given the fact it’s a medium format SLR.
#4 • Kodak Retina Reflex III (Type 041)
35mm SLR Camera
I love this camera so much, I own two of them, and both have been serviced by Retina expert Chris Sherlock over the course of 2021. Why do I love them so much? I can’t honestly explain it, apart from the fact that they take absolutely superb images.
The one great downside of the Retina Reflex III is that there just are not that many lens options, and there’s a reason for that: there just wasn’t a huge market for them. The Reflex III was a perfect example of over-engineering and excessive complexity in the absence of any real reason for it. That complexity made this camera quite expensive in its day — the equivalent of roughly US$2,300 in today’s money. Considering that Japanese SLRs could be had for considerably less, they consequently sold more, creating a bigger market for the lenses.
Regardless, the lenses that were made for the Retina Reflex III by Schneider and Rodenstock (they also fit the Retina IIIS rangefinder, and the Reflex S and Reflex IV cameras) are of exceptional quality, and most appear to have survived quite well, largely free of the balsam separation issues and coating degradation that disproportionately affects some lens types. The Schneider-made 28mm, 35mm and 50mm lenses, and Rodenstock-made 135mm lens in my collection (which I use across my IIIS, Reflex III and Reflex IV cameras) are all quite exceptional. Apart from “operator error” shots where I’ve made mistakes, I haven’t been disappointed in the quality or sharpness of a single image I’ve shot with my Reflex III cameras, so they definitely earn their place on this list.
And for the record, I own two of these cameras not out of sheer affection, actually, but happenstance; the second Reflex III was part of a small charity auction lot I bought solely for a different camera in the lot. In the end, that meant I paid the equivalent of about US$2 or US$3 for that one, and it actually worked perfectly as-is. I nevertheless sent it to Chris for a CLA — just to be sure it was clean, ready and usable for years to come.
#5 • Mamiya RB67
6×7 Medium Format SLR Camera
There are a number of film cameras that I’d consider to be truly legendary. The list includes pretty much anything during the film camera years from Hasselblad, and pretty much any Rolleiflex TLR. They’re both 6×6 of course. If there was a legendary 6×7 camera, it would have to be the Mamiya RB67.
The RB67 practically has a cult following these days. While the Hasselblad was used by all the professional photographers that I personally knew back in the day, there was nevertheless a solid contingent of pros who preferred using the RB67. Heavier, bulkier, clunkier and quirkier than a Hasselblad, the RB67 delivers a smidge more image on the negative in exchange for all that.
I personally find the image sharpness of my Hasselblad to be superior, but that implies more than I intend it to; make no mistake, the Mamiya RB67 produces incredible images, and that slight rectangle actually does provide a bit more compositional flexibility as well.
About the only down side of the RB67 is that the lenses available for them are a bit of a mixed bag. Often they’re quite good, but it seems a disproportionate number of them are flawed in some way now, so many years down the road since they were made. But find a good one and pair it with a well-maintained RB67? It’s pretty hard not to like the results.
#6 • Kodak Retina IIIS (Type 027)
35mm Rangefinder Camera
Putting this camera on this list is a bit of a cheat, since honestly, it is in some ways merely the rangefinder version of the Retina Reflex, which I already covered (it uses the same lenses).
In any case, by the late 1950s, both folding cameras and rangefinders began to seem passé. And so it was that the renowned Kodak Retina line, launched in 1934; by the end of the decade of the 50s, the Retina line started to change direction. The incredible Kodak Retina IIIC (Type 028) and Kodak Retina IIC (Type 029) were the last of the folding Retina models.
The Retina IIIS, made from 1958 to 1961, was the first rigid-body Retina camera, and it brought with it interchangeable lenses. It is, however, still a rangefinder vs. being an SLR, and basically straddles the fence between the IIIC and the later Retina Reflex SLR series, offering a bit of both. In particular, the IIIS uses lenses with the same DKL (or Deckel) mount as the Reflex S (introduced in 1959), as well as the Reflex III and Reflex IV. It sports a selenium-cell exposure meter, and even provides automatic bright lines and parallax correction for all the lenses compatible with it, from 35mm wide to 135mm long ones. (A 28mm lens can also be used with the IIIS, but bright lines for composition are not included in the viewfinder.)
The Retina IIC and IIIC are both absolutely superb cameras. But the IIIS scores above them solely on the basis of its lens selection, and the way it so competently makes them fully usable. Its image quality and utility as a rangefinder is probably surpassed only by the Leica family (but its price is massively surpassed by the Leica as well).
The IIIS, much like the Retina Reflex cameras, is a very complex design, and you won’t find that many of them in great working order today, unless they’ve been overhauled by Chris Sherlock. The well-known, New Zealand-based Retina expert is quite likely the only person who can competently service them, and one of the very few willing to do so. But in working order, the Retina IIIS is a stunning example of quality, expert mechanical engineering and meticulous craftsmanship of a sort that you simply don’t often see anymore.
#7 • Rolleiflex Automat MX
6×6 Medium Format TLR Camera
If a twin-lens reflex (TLR) camera appears on this list, I feel obligated to make sure that the highest-ranked one is a Rolleiflex. And since the only one to grace my camera collection so far is an Automat MX, here we are.
Without question, newer Rolleiflex cameras like the E and F models are superior to the almost-immediately-post-war Automat MX. But the Rolleiflex mystique can be experienced with any of them, I suspect. And one benefit of earlier models like mine? Size; it’s the most compact TLR I own (not counting ones that take 127 roll film, of course).
When I use otherwise quite satisfying TLRs like the Yashica-D or Yashica Mat-124G, or perhaps a Mamiya C-Series, and then use the Rolleiflex? Well, I’m reminded of a sort of TLR version of the spare tire covers I often see on the backs of Jeep Wranglers: “It’s a Jeep thing, you wouldn’t understand.” I need a t-shirt that says, “It’s a Rolleiflex thing, you wouldn’t understand.” Of course, if you shoot a Rolleiflex regularly, you probably do understand.
Does the Automat MX take better images than the Yashica Mat-124G? I don’t actually think so, in truth. But the experience of using the camera is indeed different. The Rolleiflex is superior from the moment you load the film; the much older Rollei is smart enough to sense the start of the film on the backing paper, while the much later Mat-124G requires me to line-up the start markings on the backing paper with dots in the camera. The feel and sound of the crank as you advance the film is smoother on the Rolleiflex. Put a filter or hood on the bayonet of the Rolleiflex, and the fit is perfect; put it on the Mat-124G, and it’s loose and inexact. It’s those moments that lead many people (me included) to believe that the Rolleiflex was the original, and the rest are merely cheap knock-offs. If it weren’t for the incredibly good images the Mat-124G produces, I’d accept that argument in full.
Am I caught-up in some romantic ideal with my Rolleiflex? Probably. I hope one day that a Rolleiflex 3.5E or 3.5F will find its way into my collection and prove that the Rolleiflex mystique is warranted. Until then, I’ll happily shoot my Automat MX, enjoy it’s lovely images, and soak-in its smoothness and precision. (And I’ll still shoot my Mat-124G despite its lack of those qualities.)
#8 • Minolta SR-T 101 and 102
35mm SLR Cameras
Two sibling cameras tie for this position, as in most ways, they’re relatively indistinguishable.
I don’t know what it is about Minolta cameras, but they seem grossly under-appreciated and under-valued by the film photography community. People practically drool over an Asahi Pentax Spotmatic, or a K1000. The name “Canon” or “Nikon” on a camera body automatically boosts a camera’s value by a factor of two or three. But the lowly Minolta and its myriad excellent lenses seems to get nothing but yawns.
It’s a shame, because the Minolta SR-T series is, as a whole, outstanding. Exceptionally well-made, serviceable and reliable, with a range of excellent lenses whose production stretched for decades, the SR-T (and the Minolta manual focus lenses) deserve more respect.
My SR-T 102 required some light cleaning and very light lubrication in a spot or two to be restored to full function. And the onboard exposure meter in all the SR-T cameras is easily modified to perform accurately with modern silver oxide batteries in lieu of the old, obsolete mercury cells. A small investment of time on my bench yielded a beautiful, usable and enjoyable camera, and didn’t need a trip to a repair professional to get it working. Contrast that to my Asahi Pentax S1a (see below), which required not one, but two trips to a camera tech, and it still gets fussy occasionally.
The SR-T 101 that I acquired after the 102 required a bit more love on my bench. It was derelict, worn, didn’t work, and came with a lens that also didn’t work; its aperture blades were so contaminated with oil, they wouldn’t budge and were stuck fully open. But even with the 101, I was able to get the camera (and its lens) going after a couple of evenings sitting on my workbench, and again without the need for it to see a professional.
The real bottom line is that both SR-T cameras were dirt cheap, easily put into working order, and stand-up easily and well against any Canon, Nikon or Pentax I’ve ever used — at a fraction of the price.
But, that’s fine. Everyone can continue to ignore the Minolta. It means there are more bodies and lenses around, and at lower prices, for people who know the secret.
#9 • Mamiya C-Series TLRs
6×6 Medium Format TLR Cameras
Again, not a single camera, but a camera family in this position. That family is the so-called C-Series twin-lens reflex cameras from Mamiya, arguably the only commercially successful TLRs with interchangeable lenses. In my collection, I have a rather worn but decent C33, a pristine C220, and a well-used but well-loved C330 Professional F. Shared amongst the three, I have at least one example of each focal length lens Mamiya made for them, save for the hard-to-find (and stupidly overpriced) 55mm lens.
The distinctions between the three cameras are so minor it’s not worth even talking about them. All three work roughly the same way, all three take outstanding photographs, all three are big, heavy, bulky, awkward and yet somehow very enjoyable to use anyway. The design of all three look like some sort of bizarre, distorted caricature of what a TLR camera is supposed to look like.
Worse, my C33 and C330 in particular both have the “beater” look to them as mentioned in the other Mamiya entries in this list, with chipped paint, scratched metal, and worn areas from years of handling, and yet they still happily snap sharp photos with ease. They’re like a decades-old Japanese compact car with 300,000 miles on the odometer — they just keep running and running and running, despite the faded paint, through-the-steel rust spots, drooping muffler, missing chrome, rattling doors, cracked windshield, threadbare seats and occasional drip of oil on the driveway. It might look like hell, but you put the key in, turn it over, and it works.
About the only real thing these cameras need isn’t in the camera, it’s in the lenses: a shutter CLA. Each lens has a leaf shutter built-in, and as with all leaf shutters, they do need professional maintenance to keep working properly for the long haul. They also need to be used; sitting around idle for extended periods isn’t helpful.
But when everything’s properly maintained, I can imagine very few clunky, bulky, awkward things that are as much fun to use as a Mamiya C-Series TLR.
#10 • Asahi Pentax S1a (and Spotmatic F)
35mm SLR Camera
It was extremely difficult to figure-out which camera to put in this final position, as there are so many in my collection that I do really like. But I think I’d be remiss if I didn’t put the Asahi Pentax cameras here. The S1a is a basic manual shooter with no bells or whistles, and the Spotmatic F is the last entry in the Spotmatic series that came after the S1a and its non-metered siblings. Both take M42 screw mount lenses, of which Asahi’s Takumars are highly regarded.
For a fully manual camera, the S1a is a quite nice. Simple, easy to use, not too heavy. If you feel you need an onboard exposure meter, the Spotmatics are equally nice. But, only the Spotmatic F has a bridge meter circuit; other Spotmatics use a simpler, and less expensive series circuit. What that means in practice is that in a Spotmatic F, you can simply use a silver oxide battery with a simple brass form factor adapter, and the meter will be accurate without modification of the camera. All other Spotmatics require modification with a Schottky diode, or recalibration, to work with a non-mercury battery.
But, it’s the lenses that make these cameras. From the standard 55mm Super-Takumars to the 28mm; from the Super-Multi-Coated 135mm and 200mm Takumars, to the Super-Takumar-Zoom 70-150mm, and on to the only fisheye lens I own — a Fish-eye-Takumar 17mm — they are all excellent. Even that early 70-150mm zoom, supposedly the very first zoom lens Asahi ever made, is a superb performer (unlike most zoom lenses I’ve used). It was a friend of mine raving about the Takumar lenses that made me look at these lenses and cameras to begin with, and he was sure right about the lenses. And the bodies made to take advantage of those lenses are just as well-engineered.
Final Thoughts
Constructing a list of favorite cameras when you own and shoot so many of them is a rather pointless exercise in a lot of ways. My Rolleiflex SL35 and its Carl Zeiss lenses belongs on this list. So does my Horseman L45 monorail large format camera. Perhaps my Franka Solida III. Definitely the Agfa Isolette / Ansco Speedex family in one form or another. Hell, I’d even put the Kodak Signet 35 someplace, if only for the fact that nobody would actually believe it takes good enough photos to be worthy of it. Then there’s the Olympus OM-1n, Minolta X-700, Rollei 35, Yashica-D, Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta III… Well, you get the idea.
Some cameras are about sharpness and perfection (Hasselblad). Others are about the experience of shooting it (Graflex Pacemaker 23). Some are just about being a delightful surprise (the Kodak Signet 35 which as I mentioned is not on the list to start with).
There’s a lot to like in film photography gear, and at the end of the day, it’s really about picking something, shooting it, and getting the most out of it that you possibly can. And for that, pretty much anything that works properly deserves to be in a Top 10 list.
Happy shooting.
