*Dean Lane Skatepark on 35mm Film by Karl Mackie*

DIGITAL PERFECTION MEETS ANALOGUE CURIOSITY

It’s 2025, and we’re surrounded by cameras capable of producing technically perfect images at the press of a button. Phones sharper than pro DSLRs from a few years ago, and mirrorless systems that can see in the dark, stabilize every micro-movement and produce flawless clarity. And yet, here we are.

Around the world, something fascinating is happening. Film photography is thriving. In towns like mine, Newquay, new film labs are opening their doors, and young photographers, many of them born into a digital world are choosing film not out of nostalgia, but out of intent.

WHAT’S FUELLED THE SHIFT?

Part of it is aesthetic. The ’90s are back on the moodboards. Grain, washed-out tones, overexposed skies, blown highlights, light leaks. That raw surf/skate energy that once filled the pages of TransWorld and Thrasher has returned only now, it’s being repurposed by fashion houses and emerging brands alike.

But this goes deeper than style.

We’re living in an age of hyper-curation. Everything is filtered, cropped, corrected, refined and we’re told it’s real. We retouch spontaneity. We polish imperfection. And somewhere along the way, photography the purest of art forms started feeling a bit soulless.

Film has become the antidote.

“FILM BRINGS THE DIRT BACK IN. THE HEARTBEAT. THE MISTAKE THAT BECOMES THE MOMENT”

It forces patience. Presence. A kind of trust in your own instinct that digital workflows tend to flatten. You shoot slower. You look harder. You wait longer. You feel more. There’s no instant playback to soothe your doubts. No AI to “enhance” your composition. And that’s exactly the point.

Shooting film means accepting that you won’t get to control the narrative quite so tightly and in a world where control is king, that surrender is quietly radical. It’s not about going backward. It’s about going inward asking yourself what you’re trying to say, rather than how perfectly you can say it.

For many young photographers, especially those who never knew life before digital, film offers a doorway into something far more tactile and rooted. It’s not retro, it’s real. It’s not just nostalgic it’s necessary.

Because when everything is perfect, nothing resonates.

*35mm Street Photography by Karl Mackie*

FROM INDIE CREAtors to global brands

Over the past few years, something’s shifted. We’re no longer in awe of perfection, we’re tired of it. The endless scroll of hyper-sharp images, polished edits, and curated feeds has created a kind of visual fatigue. We’ve spent years perfecting the imperfect, adding grain overlays and light leaks in post, chasing a look that film gives us for real.

In many ways, we’ve tricked ourselves into believing in a world that doesn’t exist or at least, doesn’t feel real. Everyone’s skin is smooth. Every sunset is oversaturated. Every moment, supposedly candid, is perfectly composed and edited with precision. It’s become a highlight reel of a highlight reel. And that comes at a cost: we lose the soul of the image, the imperfections that connect us to a time, a feeling, or a place.

“THAT’S WHERE FILM COMES IN. NOT AS A GIMMICK BUT AS A FORM OF REBELLION”

Film brings the human back into photography. There’s dust, scratches, light leaks. Missed focus. Unflattering light. And all of it feels more honest than most digital work today. It slows you down, it makes you commit, and it rewards patience over perfection. In a world that’s moving at speed, film demands that you stop and see.

Brands have picked up on this, not just for style points, but because they’ve recognized that audiences want to feel something again. No longer the quiet alternative, suddenly, film isn’t just nostalgic or niche. It’s being requested. I’ve been asked to shoot entire campaigns, big ones on medium format and 35mm. Clients embrace it for its texture, authenticity, and sense of place.

And the irony? In my camera bag are two of the finest digital cameras ever made, tools I love and rely on. Yet there I am, loading up rolls into cameras from the ’60s and ’70s. Tools that feel alive in my hands. Tools that don’t forgive, but reward you tenfold when you get it right.

Tracksmith does this brilliantly. Their campaigns blend 35mm stills and soft filmic motion to celebrate the amateur spirit in all its rawness, a reminder that running is as much about character as performance. Bandit Running takes a similar approach, giving us moody city streets and sweat-drenched closeups that feel more like stills from an indie doc than commercial content. Holderness & Bourne, more refined in tone are leaning into film to add texture and heritage to their storytelling.

And then you’ve got the fashion houses. Gucci, Saint Laurent, and Loewe, all draw on the emotional weight that film offers. It’s not about looking old-school. It’s about feeling something that can’t be faked.

This isn’t a trend. It’s a quiet uprising. A creative movement rooted in resistance against excess, against automation, against the sterility of flawlessness. Film is offering both creators and brands a way back to the real.

And maybe, deep down, that’s what we’re all craving.

THE RISE OF FILM COMMUNITIES

I’ve watched as groups of teens and twenty-somethings wander around town with old Canons and Pentaxes hanging from their necks, confidently shooting rolls they’ll wait days to see developed. There’s something so brilliant in that kind of patience, especially in a world addicted to immediacy.

“IT’S NOT NICHE ANYMORE. IT’S BECOMING NORMAL”

And it’s not just stills. Gen Z’s are making full short films on Sony Handycams from the ’90s. No gimbals, no LUT packs, no cinematic tutorials. Just wobbly tracking shots, lo-fi VHS overlays, and moody indie soundtracks… and I love it. It’s raw and imperfect and completely honest.

They’re not trying to copy the past. They’re picking it up, dusting it off, and making it their own.

And that gives me hope, not just for photography, but for storytelling in general. Maybe we’re swinging back to something slower, more intentional. Something that feels a bit more like the real world again.

*Towan Beach Surf on Kodak Portra 400 35mm by Karl Mackie*

THE FIRST ROLL: MY SONS JOURNEY WITH FILM

My son got his first film camera from me on Xmas 24, It was an Olympus Trip. He’s shooting consistently and studying the light like a seasoned pro. He’s searching for that gritty, sun-drenched mood he’s seen in old skate mags and ’90s surf docs. The kind of visual storytelling that isn’t polished, but has soul.

What I’ve noticed most is that his eye has developed without the distractions of digital perfection. There’s no screen to check. No auto-enhancement. Just intuition, light, and trust in the process.

*Custom Surfboard Design & Bristol on 35mm by Karl Mackie*

WHY FILM?

Using my Instagram I asked a question on my stories: Why are you shooting film now?

“I got tired of editing for hours just to make my digital photos look like they were shot on film.”

“I borrowed a camera after seeing Karl’s surf shots on film. I wanted to try shooting with the same kind of soul.”

“TO GET THE NOSTALGIC LOOK THAT CANT BE REACHED THROUGH AN IPHONE”

“There’s something about not knowing if you nailed it or not. That wait between shooting and seeing the scans makes it feel special every time.”

“It just looks better. Like how memories feel, not how reality looks.”

“It forces me to be present. With digital, I’m always checking the screen. With film, I’m just there in the moment.”

“I WANTED TO SHOOT LIKE Karl. his stuff doesnt feel like content, it feels like memory”

“Honestly? Because my mates were doing it and I thought it looked cool. But then I got hooked on how different it makes you see things.”

“Because I want to make something that lasts.”

“I love the accidents. The light leaks, the blur, the weird colors. It’s unpredictable”

BACK TO THE FUTURE

What we’re witnessing isn’t regression. It’s re-alignment. A growing number of people, young and old, amateur and professional are pushing back against the clinical polish of the digital age. They’re searching for something tactile, timeless, and rooted in feeling.

Film photography will never replace digital. It doesn’t need to. But its resurgence is a reminder that creativity thrives not just in progress, but in process. In slowing down. In choosing tools that challenge you rather than ones that do the work for you.

You can find more of my work on Instagram: @karl_mackie, and on my website: karlmackie.com

THE RESURGENCE OF FILM THROUGH THE EYES OF A NEW GENERATION