By Alex Luyckx
It starts with a photo, but doesn’t it always? But in this case, a particular photo of me, the one you see below this paragraph.
Yes, that’s me at three-and-a-half at my family Christmas in Montreal, Quebec, at an aunt and uncle’s house in 1986. I’m holding a black 35mm camera and taking a photo of my cousin in the foreground.
My Aunt Marianne captured the photo, and it lives next to the one I took. That photo isn’t perfect, poorly composed and slightly blurry, but can you blame me? The photo resurfaced at the end of 2024 as I began assembling a channel trailer/introduction sequence for my YouTube Channel.
It was this photo, along with another one of me on my Opa’s lap, watching him work a Pentax K1000. The trouble was that I didn’t have a good quality digital copy of that 1986 photo, only a low-res scan from years back now. So, it was off to my parents’ house to get a clean shot of the original print. I used my phone, which gave me exactly what I needed.
With the old scan, I could tell it was a black 35mm camera, but there wasn’t enough detail to even hazard a guess on the make and model. Thankfully, with the original print, I could start to make out some more details.
The camera resembled those of the late 1970s and early 1980s. My parents were married in 1980, and I came along three years later, so there’s a chance they got the camera at that point. The trouble is that many cameras from that era had a similar appearance and featured some form of red markings on the body.
My initial thoughts were on a Canon, but they were pricey. Then I found another name, Hanimex. There are numerous Hanimex cameras available, and I eventually narrowed it down to the “35” series. After looking through all of them, one stood out and jogged some visual memories, the Hanimex 35ME, which my parents later confirmed.
Now the camera was long gone, it died, and I remember going with my mom to the local camera store (Milton Foto, they’re still around) to have the film retrieved from inside the camera using the lab’s dark box.
In December, I started looking online for one. These days, cameras like this come with a hefty price tag, but all the copies I saw were surprisingly inexpensive. The reason is that all the listings showed “as-is”, “untested”, and “for parts”. I didn’t just want one to show on a shelf; I wanted to use it, put film through it, and well, write a review about the 35ME. I ended my search after a couple of months, hoping to find a working copy at either Burlington Camera or Downtown Camera.
That didn’t happen, so skip ahead to August. I noticed in an email update from Kosmo Foto’s camera shop, Cameraburo, that a fresh inventory of Hanimex cameras had arrived. It jogged the memory. Could this be my chance to get my hands on said camera? Now, in full disclosure, I had gotten things mixed up in my head a little bit and thought the camera I was after was the Hanimex 35SE, which had been in the shop. After confirming that Stephen ships to Canada, I began my search. I ended up flipping the letters (remember, I was of the mind it was a 35SE) and went with the Hanimex 35ES.
Unlike the 35ME and SE, the 35ES is a far different camera in looks; this one is clearly from the mid-1980s. Hanimex is a former Australian import firm started by Jack Hannes in 1947 to bring electronics and cameras into Australia from Asia and Europe. The early cameras that Hanimex imported often had their branding added, including Pentacon, Praktica and Topcon. Eventually, they gained enough of a reputation that they could start getting smaller manufacturers to make cameras for them with some modifications made.
I don’t use cameras like this often; I prefer my multi-element glass lenses, which offer some level of control, focusing, metering, and better build quality
But the Hanimex 35ES isn’t from Germany (East or West) or Japan; it says, “Made in Hong Kong,” which can only mean one thing. While not completely confirmed, it is generally agreed that Haking Enterprises makes the camera. A Halina, I had a Halina in my toolkit. Specifically, a Halina 160. Now this has been a running joke for myself and the Classic Camera Revival Podcast, and I did have a near-miss with one back at a Mystery Camera Challenge Episode.
I don’t use cameras like this often; I prefer my multi-element glass lenses, which offer some level of control, focusing, metering, and better build quality. The moment you apply any of these things to this camera, you’re going to be in for a bad time, and it will be your fault.
As a camera, the 35ES featured a fixed-focus 33mm lens, probably plastic, maybe two or three elements. Three choices in apertures, tied to your film speed selection: 100, 200, and 400. The aperture is also shaped like a rectangle. The shutter speed is fixed, probably between 1/80s to 1/125s. There’s a viewfinder with a clear offset from the lens and dim frame lines, which somewhat aids composition. A manual dial-type film advance, which is less rough than other cameras in this category. A big red shutter release and a ‘ping’ sound when it trips. A built-in flash powered by a single AAA battery. There’s also a lens cover that locks out the shutter to prevent accidental release.
The camera is light and plasticky, and the wrist strap is on the wrong side of the camera. It also screams mid-1980s with hard straight lines and similar angles — that 1980s VCR vibe, like the early Maxxum cameras and the Pentax PC35AF. But after a bit of trying, I did manage to figure out how to make it comfortable and usable.
While it’s easy to criticise the camera’s build, optics, and function, it’s essential to remember that these cameras are similar to the new, user-friendly options that are popular today. And they were originally aimed at the ultra-budget market so that everyone, no matter what, would have a camera that worked.
And, the Hanimex 35ES does precisely that, take photos at a low cost. Now my heart did sink a little when I pulled that first roll out from the tank. I went overkill using HP5+ on a bright, hard light day and developed in 510 Pyro. The frames were slightly overcooked, but they still had images on them. I should have pulled development by 30 seconds.
After getting the roll into the scanner, things started to come to life. There were images; some were unrecoverable, but I was seeing some good results. Not ideal, but it’s good enough after some post-processing. One thing that struck me was the beautiful glow of the images, which had a soft, dreamy feel yet still plenty of sharpness in the details. These may not match the results from my higher-end point and shoots, but they certainly look better than those from single-element plastic cameras.
The big question is, does the Hanimex 35ES fill that nostalgia-sized hole in my collection? The answer is yes, yes it does. Plus, the camera is a lot more fun because it gives me another option to get out and take photos, trust my instincts, shoot from the hip, and see what works.
Plus, it also gives me another toy camera for when I don’t need something as wide as the Lomography Apparat. And as I mentioned earlier, the Hanimex 35ES outperforms many modern simple-use cameras in image quality.
But the biggest lesson I learned in all of this is that when I’m looking for cameras of a certain class, don’t bother looking on eBay or Etsy, head straight to Cameraburo. The cameras are a fair price, and a vast majority are tested. Plus, Stephen is an all-around solid guy with a love for these cameras that often go unloved.
