The Analogue Allure: Why Olivia Wilde’s Kodak Tour Resonates Beyond Film
There’s a scene in Olivia Wilde’s recent tour of Kodak’s New York film lab that sticks with you. It’s not the sleek machinery or the chemical baths—though those are undeniably fascinating. It’s the way she pauses, holding a freshly developed negative up to the light, her expression a mix of awe and reverence. That moment, more than anything, captures why this video has struck a chord far beyond the film photography community.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how it humanizes a process often reduced to nostalgia. As a digital native myself, I’ve always viewed film as a relic of a bygone era—messy, slow, and impractical. But Wilde’s tour forces you to reconsider. It’s not just about the end result; it’s about the journey. The deliberate choices, the physical labor, the anticipation of waiting for an image to materialize—these are elements digital photography can’t replicate, no matter how advanced our software becomes.
From my perspective, this isn’t a call to abandon digital cameras. It’s a reminder that photography, at its core, is about connection. Film photographers don’t just capture images; they engage in a ritual. Every frame is a commitment, a gamble, a collaboration between artist and medium. Personally, I think this is why the video resonates so deeply—it taps into a craving for authenticity in an era of instant gratification.
The Craft Beyond the Click
One thing that immediately stands out is the tactile nature of film. Watching technicians handle negatives, adjust chemicals, and inspect prints under safelights, you realize how much of photography has become disembodied in the digital age. We swipe, tap, and click, but rarely feel the process. Film demands presence—both physically and mentally.
What many people don’t realize is that this hands-on approach isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about discipline. Film photographers must think critically about every shot, from composition to lighting, because mistakes are costly. This constraint breeds intentionality, a trait often lost in the endless bursts of digital shooting. If you take a step back and think about it, this is why film images often carry a weight that digital ones struggle to match.
In my opinion, this isn’t to say digital photography lacks value. Tools like Lightroom offer unparalleled control, and the immediacy of digital allows for experimentation on a scale film can’t compete with. But there’s a trade-off. The ease of digital can sometimes dilute the emotional investment in an image. Holding a physical print, as Wilde does in the video, feels like holding a piece of history—something digital files, for all their convenience, rarely achieve.
The Broader Implications: Why This Matters Now
This raises a deeper question: In an age dominated by AI-generated art and disposable content, what does it mean to create something tangible? Film photography isn’t just a hobby; it’s a rebellion against ephemerality. It’s a statement that some things are worth slowing down for, worth getting your hands dirty for.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how this ties into larger cultural shifts. Vinyl records, typewriters, even Polaroids—analogue formats are experiencing a renaissance. Why? Because they offer something digital can’t: a sense of permanence, of effort, of soul. Wilde’s tour, whether intentionally or not, taps into this collective yearning for authenticity.
What this really suggests is that the appeal of film isn’t just about nostalgia. It’s about reclaiming a sense of craftsmanship in an increasingly automated world. As someone who’s spent years behind a digital lens, I’ve begun to wonder: Are we losing something by prioritizing efficiency over engagement?
The Future of Photography: A Hybrid Horizon?
Here’s where it gets intriguing. I don’t see film replacing digital—or vice versa. Instead, I envision a future where photographers embrace both, leveraging the strengths of each. Digital for speed and experimentation, film for depth and deliberation. Wilde’s tour, in this sense, isn’t a call to abandon progress but to remember where we came from.
Personally, I think the real takeaway isn’t about film versus digital. It’s about the importance of process. Whether you’re developing negatives in a darkroom or editing RAW files on a laptop, the act of creation matters. What’s worrying, though, is how often we overlook this in our rush to share, like, and move on. Wilde’s video is a gentle nudge to pause, to appreciate the journey as much as the destination.
Final Thoughts: Beyond the Hype
Let’s be honest—the video is, at its core, a promotional piece for Wilde’s film The Invite. But what’s remarkable is how it transcends its marketing purpose. It doesn’t just sell a movie; it sells an idea: that there’s beauty in the slow, the deliberate, the imperfect.
If you take a step back and think about it, this is a radical message in 2023. In a world where everything is instant, film photography dares to be patient. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what we need. I’m not rushing out to buy a film camera tomorrow, but I am rethinking how I approach my craft. Because, as Wilde’s tour so elegantly demonstrates, sometimes the best way to move forward is to look back.
