Lomography’s New MC-A Film Camera Is a Blast From the Past

It has a surprisingly solid build for a Lomo model. The MC-A immediately impressed me with a largely metal chassis that has no noticeable flex. The manual film-advance lever, film-door release, and film-rewind crank are also made of metal, which gives the camera a surprisingly premium feel — one that’s a stark contrast to the “cheap and cheerful” Lomo cameras of yore.

The script on top (reading “Everybody is equal before the lens — and behind it”) isn’t to everyone’s taste but is very much in keeping with Lomography’s philosophy when it comes to photography. And if you don’t love it, well, gaffer tape is cheap.

It’s not exactly tiny, but it fits comfortably in a jacket pocket. The MC-A is compact, even if it’s not as small as some of the smallest point-and-shoots of film’s heyday, like the Olympus Mju series. I carried it around Japan for two weeks, mostly in my hoodie pocket, and never felt its roughly 0.75-pound weight.

The camera’s ergonomics are great, too, with well-placed buttons, a power switch that doubles as a focus-mode selector, and a small front grip that provided plenty of purchase even for my relatively big mitts.

It has all the features you need, and none you don’t. The MC-A eschews some of the more luxurious touches that were common on film point-and-shoots in the ’90s and ’00s, such as automatic winding and rewind. Still, it packs a surprising number of high-end features that are all focused on serious, creative photography.

They include physical shutter-speed and aperture dials, a ±2-stop exposure-compensation dial, flash control, ISO control (along with DX code reading), a self-timer, and a PC sync port for external flashes.

More interesting is the multiple exposure (MX) button: Simply take a shot, press the button, and shoot again without winding to get a layered composition. Just be sure to adjust your exposure using the compensation dial (I used -1 stop) if you decide to make multiple exposures.

Finally, I loved the top LCD screen, which shows the frame count for your roll, the focus mode, the flash settings, and more. If you forget to wind your film, it’ll even flash an instructive diagram when you press the shutter button.

Its autofocus is fast and accurate. The MC-A uses a lidar autofocus system that’s quick and accurate, even in low light. Only a few shots from my eight test rolls were out of focus, and most of those were due to my forgetting the minimum focusing distance (0.4 meter, or about 16 inches) or simply focusing on the wrong thing.

Reflective windows are lidar’s Achilles’ heel, but the MC-A offers a workaround for that, too: zone focusing. Like the Pentax 17, this camera can focus at several preset distances (0.4, 0.8, 1.5, and 3 meters, or infinity), which obviates the need for autofocus if you know how far away your subject is.

It comes with lots of accessories. Unboxing the MC-A was a much more luxurious experience than I expected, from the thick cloth wrapping the camera to the many small boxes containing unexpected accessories: a UV filter, colored flash filters (aka gels), a leather wrist strap that’s like a budget version of my all-time favorite, and Lomo’s famous Splitzer.

A USB-C-rechargeable CR2 battery is also included, and the instruction manual comes in the form of a coffee-table photo book.

The image quality is good enough. It may be telling that I’ve waited this long to discuss the MC-A’s image quality. Let’s say it’s not the camera’s strongest suit.

In many ways, the MC-A is reminiscent of previous Lomo film cameras. The 32mm f/2.8 lens creates a lot of vignetting, especially wide open. The lens, while coated, is notably flare-prone, producing both colorful (usually blue) flare when lights are directly in the frame and veiling flare when they’re near but outside the frame.

However, it’s quite sharp in the center of the image even wide open, and it gets considerably sharper toward the edges and corners as you stop down to between f/4 and f/11. The bokeh, when you manage to create it, is interesting in the way of many vintage point-and-shoots: a bit swirly, a bit funky, very Lomo.

Honestly, no one buys this kind of camera for perfect image quality. You buy this kind of camera for portability, character, and fun, and the MC-A delivers.