Author: EveNSteve

Ricoh GRD4 vs GR3 vs Leica M11P — Can Any of Them Match Tri-X Film?

by EveNSteve

Are Modern Digital Cameras Too Sharp to Look Like Film?

Over the past few days, I’ve been conducting a test that has left me genuinely shaken—and deeply curious about the direction of photography in 2025.

I’ve been comparing three cameras: the Leica M11-P, the Ricoh GR III, and the Ricoh GRD IV from 2011 (with its legendary 10MP CCD sensor). Alongside them, I’ve been looking at good old Kodak Tri-X 400 processed in D-76 1:1. And here’s what I’ve found: replicating the look and feel of film—especially something as iconic as Tri-X—is nearly impossible with today’s top-tier digital cameras. Why? Because they’re simply too good with regards to resolution.

Let me explain.

When you shoot with the Leica M11-P, what you get is an image that’s almost unnervingly sharp. The micro-detail and micro-contrast are off the charts. It doesn’t matter what lens you put on it—it cuts through the scene with clinical precision. And while that’s technically impressive, it’s also the very thing that makes it difficult to achieve that classic filmic feel. The images are so sharp, so “perfect,” that no amount of digital grain or post-processing seems to bring them back into the aesthetic world of analog film.

Even the Ricoh GR III, with its 24MP APS-C CMOS sensor (no AA filter), delivers an image so crisp and contrasty that it almost feels too clean. It’s beautiful, yes—but unsettling. It’s not just detail; it’s hyper-detail. The images feel… louder than life. And maybe that’s part of the problem.

In contrast, the GRD IV from 2011—only 10MP and CCD-based—has an elegance that feels closer to film. There’s a softness, a gentler falloff in the tones. And, of course, real Tri-X has a depth, an irregularity, and a humanity that no software seems able to mimic convincingly.

This brings me to a larger question: Has our visual aesthetic as a culture changed?

We know film photography has seen a resurgence over the past five or six years, but in the grand scheme, it’s still a tiny sliver of the overall photo market. Digital dominates. And yet, many of today’s digital tools and presets aim to emulate film—but they can’t fully hide the fact that the underlying image is just too sharp. Most emulation software simply overlays grain onto a razor-sharp digital file. It feels fake. It looks fake. And we can see that it’s fake.

That’s why I turned to Real Grain 3 by Imagenomic for this test. It was the only software I found that actually reduced structural detail in the digital file in a meaningful way before applying the grain. It felt closer to the real thing—not perfect, but better. Because true film isn’t just about grain—it’s about the relationship between grain, light, focus, and depth. It’s about imperfection.

I don’t know what this all means just yet. I’m still processing (pun intended). But what I do know is that we’re living in a time where cameras are producing images so sharp, so clinically perfect, that it may be time to ask: Is this the look we want for photography going forward?

Or is there a growing desire—conscious or not—for images that feel less precise and more emotional?


The masters—Koudelka, Cartier-Bresson, early Salgado—shot on film. Their images breathe. They have edges that aren’t always sharp. Grain that adds to the story. I worry that we’re losing that sensibility in favor of sheer technical brilliance.

This is just me thinking aloud, but maybe it’s something we all should sit with.

Perceiving The World in a Deeply Human Way

by EveNSteve

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the way we see—and how much information we actually need to perceive the world in a deeply human way. There’s a point at which resolution becomes not only unnecessary, but counterproductive. When we enter the realm of 4K, 8K, even 12K projections/ TV’s, something begins to feel off. The image is technically stunning, yes—but emotionally sterile. That hyper-clarity, like the hyper-smoothness of 60 or 120 frames per second (HFR) in video, may work for video games, but in cinema it often feels jarring, even unpleasant. It’s no accident that 24 frames per second still feels the most natural to our eyes—it has a rhythm that mirrors the way we actually experience motion.

Whenever I walk into a store and see the latest ultra-high-definition TVs, I’ll admit—I’m impressed for the first few seconds. But soon after, I find it overwhelming. There’s too much contrast, too much edge clarity, too much information bombarding my eyes. It stops being pleasurable. I find myself drawn instead to projection screens, where the light is reflected rather than emitted, or to older formats like 1080p, which feel more organic. In fact, we no longer even have a television in our home. When we did, I deliberately avoided buying a 4K set for precisely this reason—it just didn’t feel right.

This experience ties directly into how I think about photography. For years, the photo industry has been pushing the idea that “more megapixels equals better images.” But in my view, once you move beyond 18 or 24 megapixels—especially on full-frame 35mm sensors—the results often feel too sharp, too clinical. The images don’t feel better. They feel harsher, and in many cases, less human. That’s why I keep advocating for cameras with lower resolution—whether they’re small-sensor CCDs or large-sensor cameras like the Leica SL2-S, which tops out at 24 megapixels.

To my eye, the Leics SL2-S or the newer SL3-S produces images that feel far more filmic than, say, the 60-megapixel Leica M11-P. The latter may be technically superior, but the former feels better—more atmospheric, more alive. But again, I have to ask: in 2025, does “film-like” still matter? For those of us who lived and worked through the film era—who spent time in darkrooms, making prints by hand—it means something. But for younger photographers raised entirely in the digital realm, their visual reference point is different. The razor-sharp, hyper-detailed digital aesthetic may be what feels natural to them.

Still, I believe we’ve reached a kind of saturation point—a “peak resolution” moment. The photography industry, like many others, has long thrived on planned obsolescence. Resolution has been an easy metric to sell: higher numbers = better product. But I think that spell is finally breaking. You can see it in the analog resurgence: people are craving imperfection again. They’re seeking texture, atmosphere, and soul—qualities that can’t be measured in pixels.

After all, what has been one of the most beloved movements in the history of painting? Impressionism. Not because it rendered every detail with precision, but because it gave you just enough to feel something real—and let your heart and imagination do the rest. That’s what film, and lower-resolution analog mediums, do so beautifully. They don’t overwhelm you with data. They invite you into an experience. Not perfection—humanity.

 

 

Why Experience Matters

by EveNSteve

This is part of a new series I am writing — no video or images— just philosophizing on art and other random thoughts.

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Over the next few days, I’m running a comparison test between real 35mm Tri-X—shot in a Yashica T4 Super and developed in D76 1:1—and two digital cameras: the Ricoh GRD4 (CCD) and the Ricoh GR3 (CMOS). My goal is to see how closely these digital cameras, using film emulation techniques, can approximate the look of true Tri-X.

Of course, the Tri-X will be scanned, and anyone who has worked with film knows that scanned black-and-white film doesn’t look quite like a darkroom print. Add to that the fact that most film emulation software—regardless of the developer—tends to overcook the “film look.” Whether it’s grain, contrast, or tone curves, these presets often exaggerate characteristics rather than replicate them authentically.

That’s where experience matters. Only by having spent time with actual prints can one truly begin to dial in these emulations with any degree of accuracy. But that raises a deeper question: does it even matter in 2025? Most photographers today shoot digital. Those of us working in film or hybrid workflows are a small minority. So when someone selects a Tri-X or Fuji Acros preset, is the goal accuracy—or just style?

If you’ve never seen a Tri-X darkroom print, how would you know what it’s “supposed” to look like? Film emulation today often functions less as faithful reproduction and more as aesthetic shorthand. And yet, I’m still interested in doing this side-by-side. I suspect one thing that will become clear is that the higher resolution of the GR3 actually works against it—making it harder to convincingly simulate the look of 35mm film.

This is something I keep coming back to in these tests: once you get past 18 to 20 megapixels—think Leica M9 territory—it becomes difficult to mimic the visual character of 35mm film. High-resolution sensors in compact or full-frame digital cameras often push images into a zone that looks more like medium format, or even large format. Even when you apply film emulation, it often looks too clean, too detailed. It doesn’t feel like 35mm.

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe we’ve moved on. Maybe this is just the new aesthetic standard. I’m not sure. These are just my thoughts as I explore this further.