This is Expired Film
A little while back, a good friend gifted me a box of expired film. I know, dream scenario, right? And this wasn’t just any box. Tucked inside were several rolls of Fujifilm Pro 400H in 120 format. You know the stuff: beloved, discontinued, and sliding into the back of my trusty Bronica SQ-b like it was born to be there.
Then came a second gift – this time, a nearly full box of Fuji Provia 400F. Transparency film. Colour Reversal film. Slide film. Whatever you want to call it, it expired in 2006. Two. Thousand. And. Six. Almost twenty years ago. That’s not “aged to perfection,” that’s “old enough to vote.”
And just this past week? Yet another box. Inside: two rolls of FujiColor HR 400, expired August 1986. That’s thirty-nine years ago. Older than some of the people who come through Loop.
Now, of course, I knew the rules of shooting expired film. Everyone does. “Add a stop of exposure for every decade past its expiry.” That kind of thing. But did I follow them?
Of course not. So let’s check the results.
Fuji Pro 400H — Box Speed & Zero Regrets
With the Pro 400H, I shot at box speed, no exposure compensation, no fuss. Just hopes ‘n’ dreams riding on this wonderful film and I was absolutely delighted. On one of our Loop photo walks in Melbourne’s CBD, I made a few portraits of some of the crew. The colours? Absolutely dreamy. It rendered skin tones and soft shadows exactly how I see the world – like a memory you didn’t know you had.
There’s a reason this film is so adored. Pro400H gives you that pastel softness, beautiful latitude, and just the right amount of grain. I’ve burned through three of the six gifted rolls now, and each time I peel one from the wrapper, the sadness grows. Not because the film’s gone, bad quite the opposite. Because I know I’m getting closer to the last roll.
But hoarding film is a crime against creativity, so I shoot it. Duh!
Fuji Provia 400F — Slides Like Butter
Next up: the Provia 400F. This film is a colour reversal stock, meaning you get a positive image on the film – no inversion needed. It’s like shooting for a slideshow in 1998, and I’m here for it.
Again, I shot it straight at box speed, and again, I was blown away. The colours pop in a way that only transparency film can manage.
I don’t know how long these rolls sat in someone’s drawer, but they’ve aged better than I have.
Fuji HR 400 — A Floral Tragedy
Now to the FujiColor HR 400, expired August 1986. I’d seen someone online rate this film at ISO 25, so I followed suit. When your film is almost 40 years old, you don’t argue – you overexpose and hope.
There’s no way to know how this roll was stored, but I’d wager it wasn’t anywhere near a fridge. Possibly a shoebox in a hot garage. Maybe the boot of a car. Wherever it was, it did not live its best life.
The masking tape – that tiny strip that holds the film to the paper in 120 rolls – had completely dried out. So, mid-shoot, the film decided it had had enough and bloomed into a kind of celluloid flower, bunching up and refusing to move forward.
I could feel the resistance while winding, but I figured it was fine. I was wrong. Big sad face.
I cracked open the back of the Bronica and found a sculptural masterpiece of jammed film, and lost hope. The negatives were mangled, and there was no saving them.
Lessons from the Graveyard
This was only the second time in twenty years I’ve had an expired roll completely fail. But I’ve also had incredible luck with expired stocks, like an old roll of Ilford HP4 which produced some of my favourite-ever photos of our daughter and our now-saintly Husky.
So what’s the takeaway?
Shooting expired film is a mystery – sometimes you hit the jackpot, sometimes you get flowers. But when it works, it feels like magic. A time capsule that opens perfectly. A surprise that pays off.
Next time I try an ancient roll, I’ll crack it open in the darkroom first and check that backing tape. Maybe even re-seal it myself. It’s a small step that might save a masterpiece.
Final Thoughts (and One Last Frame)
If you’re a film photographer in Melbourne – or anywhere, really – and someone hands you a roll of expired film, say thank you and shoot it. Give it a bit of extra light and go make something wonderful.
Even when you get nothing, you still made time for photography, and that’s always worth it.
Loved reading this dude. It’s the magic of exploring the unknown. Old rolls of film. Old bottles of red. Old timber. You never know what you’re gonna get. Forces you along a path of discovery and anticipation without too much expectation. Peace bro.
CK
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