Porter
Hovey and her artsy New York friends are lounging on a rooftop in
Williamsburg, Brooklyn, giddy to be outdoors. It’s spring’s first
breath, and the gang passes around a camera to capture the moment in a
way once thought extinct: Polaroids.
Well, not exactly. They’re using a
Fujifilm Instax
camera, one of the few remaining methods to capture the warm-edged,
dreamlike quality of shoot-and-print photos ever since Polaroid closed
its last instant film factory in 2008.
“It’s
nostalgia,” said Hovey, 30, who remembers her parents snapping
Polaroids of her growing up in Nebraska in the 1980s. “Holding a photo
in your hands is something you just don’t do now . . . there is just no
replacing that with Instagram.”
Only
now, that nostalgia has come full circle. While Instagram became a hit
by offering vintage filters for your smartphone photos, now you can
develop those fake-vintage snapshots on instant film stock. Fujifilm’s
Instax Share SP-1 printer
started appearing on Canadian store shelves this past week. The
wifi-enabled miniature device connects to your smartphone to develop
credit card-sized prints from your photo stream.
Fujifilm
is betting on the printer as a new way to cash in on instant film’s
resurgence, led by a growing wave of enthusiasts such as Hovey and her
friends. The analog art has been kept afloat by Fuji and
Impossible,
a German company that took over Polaroid’s shuttered film factory in
the Netherlands. The two companies remain the world’s lone distributors
of instant cameras and film.
But why invest in the retro art when user-friendly digital photography has eclipsed film?
“It
was pretty simple,” explains Creed O’Hanlon, CEO of Impossible. “There
are still 200 million Polaroid cameras in the world, all of which were
rendered useless by the withdrawal of the factory.”
Impossible,
which took its name from the far-fetched dream of keeping instant film
alive, is now the sole company manufacturing film for Polaroid’s
discontinued lines of 600, SX-70 and Spectra cameras. They also
refurbish about 35,000 of the cameras each year, buying them from flea
markets and eBay and reselling them for US$150 to $460. The film is
equally pricey; eight exposures cost $23.49.
Still,
the trend seems to be catching. Impossible sold 1.2 million units of
film in 2013, up from 600,000 in 2012. It’s especially popular in France
and Australia with a growing market in Canada.
“Tens
of thousands of films over the last three months have been heading into
Canada,” O’Hanlon said. “Canadians, like Americans, are beginning to
discover it.”
Many of those buyers are young, O’Hanlon said, especially since the company started selling cameras and film in North American
Urban Outfitters stores.
“For
a younger generation who never understood the frustration of waiting a
week for film to develop, it’s akin to magic,” he said.
Still,
the company has a bit of an identity problem. When someone is handed an
Impossible photo, they usually say, “Oh wow, a Polaroid!” O’Hanlon
says.
“We call them ‘Impossibles,’” he corrected.
Fujifilm’s cameras are markedly different. Its film only works with Fuji’s own line of
Instax cameras, which have been around for more than a decade, long before Polaroid shut down its film factory.
However,
Fuji felt a spike in sales in the past two years, especially among teen
girls and those between 18 and 30. The colourful plastic cameras
(retailing at $80 to $100) seem tailored for that demographic, with sly
product placement in current music videos by
Lily Allen and
Avril Lavigne.
Recently, Fujifilm introduced the more serious-looking Neo Classic
model, with “advanced” features and a higher price tag (about $180),
aimed at an older audience.
“Polaroid
leaving the market has left some business on the table,” said Paul
Woodall, the director of sales and marketing for Fuji Canada.
The
cameras became such a hit that Polaroid decided to re-enter the instant
film game in 2010 by partnering with Fujifilm to launch its
Polaroid Pic300 camera. The camera was essentially a rebranded version of Fujifilm’s Instax 7S, with a few minor design adjustments.
Still,
instant film remains a novelty item, and we’re not about to give up the
convenience of our smartphone lenses. Which is where Fujifilm’s Instax
Share printer comes in.
The
new device even comes with its own Instagram-like Android and iOS apps
that allow users to snap their own masterpieces and apply filters. It
retails for $200, plus about $10 for 10 sheets of Instax film.
The
Star tested the inkless printer, which is surprisingly quick. It took
10 seconds for it to spit out a photo, which fully developed in about
one minute.
As
for the app, it’s a little limited. Users can only choose from two
filters, black-and-white and sepia, and a handful of seasonal frames,
such as “Season’s Greetings” and “Happy Birthday.” It can be connected
to a user’s Instagram and Facebook albums, unlocking the vast digital
libraries.
Fuji is trying to market the product as a staple for big social events.
“The
app allows multiple people to use the printer at once, which is ideal
for parties,” Woodall explained. “If you want to get behind the scenes
at a wedding . . . you could have everyone print them out and put them
in a book as their keepsake.”
But in Porter Hovey’s eyes, the gap between the online world and instant photography is part of the appeal. A
professional photographer herself, Hovey once used her Polaroid to snap a photo essay of Williamsburg.
“For
some reason Polaroid film could capture the changes of the
neighbourhood I lived in . . . that old-versus-new that I felt
Williamsburg started to represent,” she said.
That
past-versus-present theme came up again during the rooftop hangout as
Hovey’s friends starting taking Instagram pictures of the Fuji instant
photos. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“They were taking pictures of the pictures,” Hovey said. “It was the funniest thing.”