When 36 Isn’t Quite Right: Living in the Moment with Film Photography
In the summer of 2022 I fulfilled a dream by acquiring a used Leica M6 from a close friend. It’s a coveted camera among 35mm film enthusiasts, and I’ve cherished taking care of it since it became mine. While I haven’t shot as much film as I initially planned, the experience has instilled a valuable lesson in patience.
Film photography has become a pricier hobby due to rising demand and dwindling supplies. In some cases, some film stocks are being discontinued, pushing secondary market prices even higher. Additionally, a trend has emerged of re-spooling movie film for still photography, offering unique (and sometimes unpredictable) results.
Regardless of the approach, the average cost of film now hovers around $15 per roll, with black and white options starting around $7 and premium color stocks exceeding $20. Processing has become somewhat niche as well, leading to increased costs and turnaround times.
All told, I spend roughly $30-$40 per roll to shoot, process, and scan a single roll of film. That translates to about $1 per shot – a stark contrast to the carefree abundance of digital photography. Naturally, I strive to make every click count. Unfortunately, things rarely go according to plan.
This unintentional multi-exposure photo perfectly exemplifies that sentiment. Film photography has forced me to slow down to an almost meticulous pace. Proper exposure, precise focus, and flawless composition become paramount when each shot carries such a high cost. Unlike digital, where I might experiment with slight variations, on film, every frame is precious.
With this newfound focus on what I saw through the viewfinder, I completely missed a fundamental film photography rule: knowing how many exposures a roll holds. Every roll I’d bought for the past two years was 36 exposures. I flat-out forgot that 24-exposure rolls still existed. At least a dozen frames that I shot will never be seen, they simply don’t exist.
Unlike modern electronic cameras with DX code detection, the mechanical M6 has no way of knowing what film is loaded. Consequently, I believed I had around eight frames remaining when I visited a pop-up event hosted by Race Service in Los Angeles, featuring a collaboration with La Marzocco and Porsche.
A stunning, caged, and track-prepped 964 was on display. I patiently waited for people to clear the background and captured a few photos with the M6. I used my iPhone for a handful of additional shots but prioritized being present in the moment rather than constantly glued to a screen.
The last two film frames felt unusually difficult to advance. A flicker of concern crossed my mind – perhaps the sprocket holes were damaged, or maybe the film itself tore inside the camera. However, the film rewound smoothly when I engaged the rewind lever, and everything seemed normal.
With a touch of apprehension, I removed the bottom plate, expecting to find mangled film trapped inside the canister. Instead, the film emerged intact, leading me to dismiss the incident as a quirk of consumer-grade Kodak Gold 200 film.
Two weeks later I was home and decided to visit a new camera store in a nearby town. Eager to explore their inventory, I decided to have them process my film. To my surprise, they offered on-the-spot processing and scanning, allowing me to take the film home immediately and sending my digital scans out via DropBox. It was fantastic!
Erik, the film technician, called me over to his workstation during scanning. He inquired if I wanted him to attempt salvaging the last two or three frames, which somehow appeared double-exposed.
Double-exposed? I hadn’t intentionally captured any double exposures, but I readily agreed to his attempt.
Following a delightful conversation with Mike, the owner, and Erik, I embarked on the 45-minute drive home. They had already emailed me the digital files, and I couldn’t wait to review them again and share them with friends.
Imagine my surprise when the week spent in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, was present on the roll, but none of the Porsche photos were there. A strange feeling washed over me. Did I even attend the event? Was it all a dream?
One of the things I adore about film photography is the imposed patience. The gratification is delayed, arriving days or even weeks later. You have to shoot the entire roll, get it processed (by mail or in person), and only then can you finally see the results. This experience has motivated me to trust my instincts more when framing and exposing on film. Capture the image, step back, and truly appreciate the scene before you. There’s no need for a digital backup or a quick iPhone snapshot to share the moment instantly. It’s a challenging approach, but it’s a work in progress for me.
