Ever looked out a tiny, scratched airplane window and felt that sudden urge to document the world below? Most people just whip out an iPhone, snap a shot that looks kinda hazy, and call it a day. But there’s this obsessive subculture of photographers doing something much more difficult, expensive, and—honestly—way more rewarding. They are putting actual, physical film in the air.
It sounds impractical. It is. Shooting 35mm or medium format from a moving aircraft involves battling vibration, high-speed winds, and the constant threat of haze. Yet, in 2026, we’re seeing a massive resurgence in analog aerials. Why? Because digital sensors, for all their megapixels, often struggle with the sheer scale of atmospheric depth. Film handles it differently. It has a way of "seeing" through the blue-tinted scattered light of the atmosphere that feels tactile rather than clinical.
The Physics of Shooting Film in the Air
When you're at 5,000 feet, you aren't just taking a picture of the ground; you're taking a picture through a massive column of air. This air is filled with moisture, dust, and pollutants. This is what pilots and photographers call "atmospheric haze."
Digital sensors are notoriously sensitive to the blue end of the spectrum. Without heavy post-processing, digital aerial shots often look flat and overly blue. Film, particularly certain emulsions like Kodak Portra 400 or the legendary (and now sadly discontinued) Aerochrome, reacts to light with a chemical nuance that digital struggle to replicate.
Actually, the history of this is pretty wild. During the Cold War, the military wasn't using digital sensors to spot missile silos. They were using massive rolls of Kodak film. The precision was staggering. Even today, some specialized mapping projects still prefer the resolution of large-format film over digital alternatives because a 9x9 inch film negative contains a ridiculous amount of data. No "pixels" to get blocky when you zoom in—just silver halide crystals doing their thing.
Why Vibration is the Enemy
If you're in a Cessna 172 or a helicopter, everything is shaking. Everything. Your hands, the seat, the camera body.
If you use a shutter speed that’s too slow, your $80 roll of film is wasted. Expert aerial photographers like Jason Hawkes have spent decades mastering the art of the "fast shutter." When you've got film in the air, you generally want to be shooting at 1/500th of a second at the very least. 1/1000th is better. This usually means you need a "fast" film—something with a higher ISO—to compensate for that quick shutter speed.
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It's a delicate balance.
Higher ISO means more grain. Too much grain and you lose the detail of the landscape below. It’s a constant trade-off between clarity and light.
The Aerochrome Mystery and Infrared Magic
You can't talk about aerial film without mentioning Kodak Aerochrome. This stuff is the holy grail. It was a "false-color" infrared film originally designed for camouflage detection. Basically, it made healthy vegetation turn a vibrant, shocking pink or red.
It’s rare now. Like, "pay $200 for one roll on eBay" rare.
But the look is unmistakable. When you see a photo of a forest from above and the trees look like bright crimson cotton candy, you’re looking at infrared film in the air. Modern digital infrared conversions exist, sure, but they often look "baked." They lack the organic transitions between the highlights and the shadows that the chemical process provides.
Some photographers are now experimenting with Rollei Infrared or specialized filters on standard black-and-white stocks like Ilford SFX 200 to mimic that look. It’s not quite the same, but it’s close enough to keep the aesthetic alive.
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Equipment: What the Pros Actually Use
You might think you need a specialized "aerial camera." Back in the day, companies like Fairchild and Zeiss made massive, heavy units designed specifically for planes. Today? Most people are using medium format monsters.
- The Pentax 67: Known as the "Texas Leica," this thing is a tank. It’s heavy, which is actually a good thing in a plane because the mass helps dampen some of those micro-vibrations.
- The Mamiya 7: This is arguably the ultimate aerial film camera. It’s a rangefinder, so it’s lighter than an SLR, and the lenses are some of the sharpest ever made.
- Linhof Technorama: For those ultra-wide panoramic shots of the coastline.
Shooting from a "doors-off" helicopter is the dream. But it’s terrifying. You’re strapped in with a harness, leaning out into the slipstream, holding a camera that costs more than a used car, hoping you don't drop a lens cap into someone's backyard three miles below.
Honestly, the wind is the biggest shock. At 80 knots, the air doesn't just blow; it punches. You have to keep the camera inside the "dead air" of the cabin as much as possible. If the lens catches the wind, it can actually rip the camera out of your hands or, at the very least, vibrate the lens elements enough to ruin the focus.
Common Misconceptions About Aerial Film
People think it’s just about the height. It isn't. It’s about the light.
There’s a common myth that you need to be at 10,000 feet to get a "real" aerial shot. Not true. Some of the most compelling work is done at "low-level" altitudes—between 500 and 1,500 feet. At this height, you still get shadows and perspective. If you go too high, the world starts to look like a flat map. You lose the three-dimensionality of buildings and trees.
Another big mistake? Shooting through the glass.
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Unless you’re in a pressurized commercial jet, you should always try to shoot through an open window or a removed door. Airplane acrylic is terrible for optics. It’s usually scratched, it’s rarely clean, and it causes massive internal reflections. If you must shoot through glass, get the lens as close as possible without actually touching it (remember the vibrations!). Use a rubber lens hood to seal out the cabin lights.
The "Scan" Problem
Once you land and get your film developed, the work isn't over. Getting that film in the air onto a screen requires a high-end scan.
This is where many hobbyists stumble. A cheap flatbed scanner won't capture the detail of a medium-format negative shot from a plane. You really need a drum scan or a high-end dedicated film scanner like a Hasselblad Flextight. When you see a massive, wall-sized print of an aerial landscape that looks like you could walk into it, it’s usually because the photographer spent as much time on the scan as they did on the flight.
Actionable Steps for Your First Flight
If you're serious about trying this, don't just book a flight and hope for the best.
- Talk to the pilot beforehand. Tell them you are a photographer. Ask if the windows open or if they can "slip" the plane to give you a clear view. Most pilots are cool with this if you’re professional about it.
- Use a neck strap. This seems obvious, but people forget. A camera falling from a plane is a lethal kinetic projectile. Secure your gear.
- Overexpose slightly. Haze tends to underexpose your shadows. Giving your film an extra half-stop or full stop of light can help "cut" through the atmospheric muck.
- Focus on infinity, then tape it. Use gaffer tape to lock your focus ring at infinity. In the excitement of the flight, it’s very easy to accidentally bump the focus and end up with a roll of blurry landscapes.
- Check your shutter speed constantly. It’s easy to move the dial by mistake. Keep it high.
Aerial photography on film is a slow, deliberate, and expensive hobby. It’s the polar opposite of the "spray and pray" digital mentality. You get 10, 12, or 36 frames per roll. Every click of the shutter costs five dollars. But when you get that one frame where the light hits the ridges of a mountain range just right, and the film grain gives it that timeless, painterly texture? Nothing else compares. It’s not just a photo; it’s a physical record of a moment in time, captured through a chemical reaction thousands of feet above the earth.
Ultimately, putting film in the air is about embracing the imperfection of the atmosphere. It's about accepting that you can't control the haze or the wind, but you can use them to create something that feels more "real" than a perfect, sterile digital file. If you’ve been sticking to the ground, maybe it’s time to look up—and take your camera with you.
Next Steps for the Aspiring Aerialist
To transition from ground-based photography to the sky, start by researching local flight schools or "discovery flights" in your area. These are often cheaper than formal charters and give you a solid 30-60 minutes of air time to test your settings. Prioritize a high-wing aircraft like a Cessna 150 or 172, as the wing stays out of your frame, giving you a clear view of the world below. Load up a roll of 400-speed film, set that shutter to 1/1000th, and keep your elbows off the window frame to minimize vibration.