Film Cameras in Hollywood: The Cameras That Became Part of the Story

Give a character an old film camera and you immediately start forming an opinion about them. A battered Nikon suggests a working photographer. A Polaroid promises a photograph that someone will probably regret taking.

I love how much personality these cameras bring to a film. Sometimes they help establish the period. Sometimes the entire plot depends on what they photograph.

Here are five films where the cameras deserve a bit of attention alongside the actors.

Rear Window (1954): An Exakta and some very questionable neighbour watching

In Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window, James Stewart plays L. B. “Jeff” Jefferies, a photographer stuck in his flat with a broken leg. Watching the neighbours gradually becomes something more serious.

His camera is an Exakta VX, paired with a huge Kilfitt Fern-Kilar 400mm f/5.6 telephoto lens. It is one of cinema’s most recognisable camera setups, even if plenty of viewers couldn’t name it.

What I like is how naturally the camera fits the character. Jeff observes things for a living, so of course he reaches for a long lens when something catches his attention across the courtyard.

The camera also puts us in his position. We are looking at small details, trying to work out what they mean, with no guarantee that we have understood them correctly.

A lovely piece of photographic equipment. Possibly best used somewhere other than your neighbour’s window.

Apocalypse Now (1979): Dennis Hopper and the Nikon F

Dennis Hopper’s photojournalist in Apocalypse Now arrives with cameras hanging from him, including Nikon Fs. The equipment is a huge part of his appearance: this is a man who looks as though he has been living with his cameras rather than carefully putting them back in their boxes.

There is something convincing about that combination of metal camera bodies, straps and general disorder. It suits the character’s intensity.

I like a camera with a bit of weight and presence, so the Nikon F has obvious appeal. Although several of them around your neck would probably make you reconsider how much you enjoy solid construction.

The Bridges of Madison County (1995): Clint Eastwood with a Nikon

Clint Eastwood plays Robert Kincaid, a National Geographic photographer visiting Iowa to photograph its covered bridges. His equipment includes a Nikon F with a motor drive.

Here, photography gives the characters a reason to meet. A working assignment leads to something personal, and the camera remains a believable part of Kincaid’s life throughout.

I like this quieter use of photographic equipment. Finding a location, looking at the light and spending time somewhere are familiar parts of taking pictures. They also give a story room to develop.

It helps that an old Nikon looks entirely at home slung over Eastwood’s shoulder. Some people can make carrying camera equipment look effortless.

Memento (2000): The Polaroid you really need to pay attention to

In Christopher Nolan’s Memento, Leonard Shelby uses instant photographs and written notes to help navigate life with an inability to form new long-term memories. His camera is a folding Polaroid 690.

The photographs become records of people and places, with handwritten captions telling him what he believes he needs to know.

That makes the physical print essential. He can hold it, write on it and refer back to it. But a photograph only shows what was in front of the lens. The meaning attached to it can be much less dependable.

For me, this is one of the cleverest uses of a camera in a thriller. The familiar white border of a Polaroid becomes something you study for clues.

It is also a reminder that an instant photograph can raise considerably more questions than it answers.

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013): A Nikon F3/T and a missing negative

Film photography sits right at the centre of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. Walter works with photographic negatives at Life magazine, and a missing image sends him looking for photographer Sean O’Connell, played by Sean Penn.

O’Connell uses a Nikon F3/T, the titanium version of the F3. His memorable mountain scene involves watching a snow leopard and choosing to enjoy the moment without taking the photograph.

I like the thought behind that scene. Photography encourages you to notice things, but there are times when you can put the camera down and simply look.

The missing negative also gives the story something tangible to chase. One small piece of film matters enormously, and you understand why Walter is so determined to find it.

Although anyone who has misplaced a negative might find that part slightly less relaxing.

These films capture different sides of photography: curiosity, obsession, memory, work and the pleasure of seeing something worth stopping for.

That is part of the appeal of old cameras to me. Their design and the way people use them can tell you quite a lot before you have even seen a photograph.

And once you start noticing them in films, it becomes surprisingly difficult to stop. The plot can wait a second. I’m trying to identify the camera.