Kodak’s new boxes ask an old question: what’s inside?

Kodak’s yellow-and-black film boxes raise a question that belongs beside every film announcement: what, exactly, has changed inside? In his 1 September 2026 report for Kosmo Foto, Stephen Dowling described Eastman Kodak’s self-distributed films as appearing substantially cheaper in the UK than their predecessors. That matters to anyone buying rolls. Understanding the material behind the packaging matters just as much.

A box tells you what to ask for at the counter. Knowing what you are actually buying takes a little more reading.

Follow the film past the label

Dmitri’s 7 May report for Analog.Cafe gives some particularly useful translations: Ektapan 100 and 400 were formerly T-Max; Ektacolor Pro 160 and 400 were formerly Portra. The report places these names within Kodak’s move to distribute its large-format films and bulk rolls itself. Someone searching for a familiar film could therefore meet an unfamiliar name before finding the connection.

For a newcomer, the emulsion is the light-sensitive coating that records the photograph. A change of name and a change to that coating are different claims, each needing its own evidence. These reports document the new names and the distribution change. They don’t say whether the coating has changed, so don’t assume a renamed box holds a better or worse negative.

The more revealing figure comes from Dmitri’s May comparison for Analog.Cafe. He identifies Kodak as the sole factory source of ISO 800 colour-negative film, while comparing eight offerings, including rolls from disposable cameras. Eight choices at the counter can have a much smaller manufacturing family tree.

His August comparison of ISO 100 films makes the complementary point. He counts only six facilities worldwide that can make colour-negative film, and reports that just two of them make it at ISO 100. He identifies Kodak’s Aerocolor IV as a material other brands buy and repackage. He also stresses that films from the same factory can differ. A shared manufacturer alone cannot establish that two rolls contain the same emulsion.

That distinction makes these comparisons worth reading. Start with the documented origin, then look at how the author controlled processing and scanning. Colour negatives need interpretation when they become positive images; the scan you see is part of that chain. A convincing comparison should help you understand which differences belong to the film.

Dowling’s September UK report is a reason to check your retailer’s current offering. Compare format, exposures and processing costs alongside the name. The useful saving is the one that buys more finished photographs for your project.

An ordinary-looking lens with an unusual job

The same habit of looking beyond the exterior makes Leica’s revived 66mm lens interesting. In an undated post, Toronto retailer Downtown Camera traces the Summicron-M 66 f/2’s inspiration to Dr. Walter Mandler’s ELCAN 66mm f/2, developed at Ernst Leitz Canada in the late 1960s under a US Navy contract.

According to Downtown Camera, the reconnaissance brief called for exceptional resolution inside a standard-looking exterior. It puts original production at approximately 200 units. Here, appearance was part of the engineering requirement: the lens had to look unremarkable while doing unusual optical work. Resolution means the ability to distinguish fine detail, which gives that requirement a photographic meaning beyond the spy-story appeal.

That history is more useful than treating an uncommon focal length as reason enough to want one. Ask what problem the lens was meant to solve, then ask whether that problem resembles yours. Stephen Dowling’s 3 September report for Kosmo Foto calls the new version limited-edition. We haven’t seen a confirmed price or production run for it, so treat any figure you meet with care until Leica publishes one.

A teaspoon is a label, too

Coffee brings this question onto the darkroom bench. A 2012 introduction on caffenol.org, the coffee-developer site run by Dirk Essl, describes Caffenol as a black-and-white developer made with instant coffee, washing soda and vitamin C. Developer makes the exposed image visible; fixing and washing remain necessary steps towards a usable negative.

The site’s 9 January 2011 measurement note passes on readers’ warning that a teaspoon instruction could mean anything from one to five grams, depending on the spoon. The post points readers towards Reinhold’s recipes expressed in grams and litres. An apparently precise instruction could hide a fivefold difference before the film even entered the tank.

That is the practical thread through the boxes, the lens and the coffee: identify what a description actually establishes. Record the ingredients and process before assigning a result to the film. Keep ventilation, gloves and eye protection in the routine, use separate chemical utensils, and keep spent fixer out of drains wherever local rules require collection.

Open the measurement note, choose a documented film-and-recipe combination, and make a test whose notes someone else could follow.