Is Being Committed to Shooting Film Holding Me Back?
TL/DR: Yes.
Why I Started Shooting Film
It started with money. In 2019, I decided to take photography seriously, but I didn’t have the budget to invest in the kind of digital gear I wanted. At the time, I had a Canon Rebel XT with a kit lens—fine for casual use, but not exactly capable of producing the results I was aiming for. I wanted to upgrade to a modern full-frame DSLR or mirrorless system, complete with high-end lenses, but the cost was out of reach.
Film, on the other hand, offered an alternative. I could buy a professional 35mm film SLR and premium lenses for a fraction of what an equivalent digital system would cost. So, I did. I bought a Minolta A9 with G-series lenses, and suddenly I had access to professional-grade tools. With those tools, I could create the kind of images I wanted without emptying my bank account. That was my starting point.
Why I Continue Shooting Film
The simple answer is: I enjoy it. The process, the tools, the results—film is deeply satisfying in a way that digital has never been for me.
The film photography community plays a big role in this. Unlike many digital photography spaces, where discussions often focus on the latest gear, film communities tend to prioritize the art and craft of photography. Conversations are about process, technique, and creative choices rather than the specs of a new sensor.
Then there’s the process itself. Film photography feels tangible. The negative is a physical object, a direct result of your effort. Shooting film also demands a level of attention and care that digital doesn’t. Mistakes—like misloading film, choosing the wrong settings, or botching development—can ruin an image or an entire roll. I lost 50% of a roll of photos taken from my son’s first week on the planet because the film wasn’t sitting right in the development tank. But that’s part of the appeal - if you’re into the occasional moment of self-masochism; the stakes are higher, and the satisfaction of success is greater.
Even the cameras are a joy to use. Vintage film cameras are beautifully designed objects. They’re mechanical, precise, and often built to last decades. Each one has its quirks, and learning to work with those quirks is part of the experience.
The Canon F-1: Quite possibly the best looking and best handling manual film camera in my collection
How Film Has Helped Me Grow
Shooting film has made me a better photographer. With every frame carrying a cost, I’m far more deliberate about my shots. I don’t rush; I take the time to compose carefully and consider whether a scene is worth capturing.
This deliberate approach has forced me to truly understand the technical aspects of photography. Exposure, metering, depth of field, composition—these aren’t just concepts I’ve read about; they’re things I’ve internalized through practice. I’ve also spent a lot of time studying the work of great photographers, analyzing what makes their images effective and thinking about how I can apply those lessons to my own work.
Film’s inherent limitations have also taught me to live with—and learn from—mistakes. There’s no immediate feedback, no screen to check. When something goes wrong, I have to figure out why and how to avoid it in the future. That process has made me much more confident in my abilities.
Even when I shoot digital now, I approach it with the same mindset. I’m more thoughtful and deliberate, and I take fewer, better shots. The habits I’ve built through film carry over.
How Film Holds Me Back
But film isn’t without its downsides.
The biggest limitation is cost. Film and development aren’t cheap, and that expense makes me hesitant to experiment. When every shot costs money, it’s hard to justify taking risks or trying ideas that might not work. This has made me cautious, sometimes to a fault. I’ve skipped shots or abandoned concepts simply because they felt too uncertain.
There’s also the issue of being locked into a single film stock. If I have black-and-white film loaded and come across a scene that demands color, I’m out of luck. The reverse is just as frustrating. Digital doesn’t have this problem, and it’s something I’ve come to appreciate more.
Finally, film has made me overly critical of whether a scene is "worth" shooting. Too often, I’ve found myself overthinking a potential shot, ultimately deciding against it. Those moments feel like missed opportunities, and they add up.
My Path Forward
If I want to continue growing as a photographer, I need to embrace digital alongside film. Digital is a fantastic tool for experimentation—it allows for trial and error without financial consequences. I can test ideas, play with light, and push boundaries in ways that would feel too risky with film.
I’ve already started incorporating digital into my workflow. When I shoot product photography on film, for example, I use a digital camera to fine-tune my lighting setup. Once everything is dialed in, I switch to film. It’s not all that different from photographers of the past using Polaroids to test their setups before committing to film.
Going forward, I plan to use digital more for personal projects and creative experiments. I can work through ideas digitally, refine them, and then bring that knowledge back to film. By combining the strengths of both mediums, I can create work that’s both technically sound and creatively fulfilling.
Conclusion
Film has been an incredible teacher. It’s forced me to slow down, to think, and to refine my craft. But if I limit myself to film alone, I’ll miss out on opportunities to grow. Digital doesn’t have to replace film—it can complement it. By using both, I can push myself further, exploring new ideas and approaches while staying true to the process I love.