Introduction: When “Quirky” Is a Feature, Not a Bug
Let’s get one thing straight: the Contax TVS II is the eccentric uncle of the compact camera world. It’s sleek, it’s stylish, and it’s got more quirks than a Wes Anderson movie. Released in the ‘90s as part of the TVS (Titanium Vario Sonnar) series, this little gem is a testament to the golden age of compact cameras—when engineering met artistry, and every button click felt like a tiny rebellion against the digital future.
Is it perfect? No. Is it ridiculously fun to use? Absolutely.
Design: “Titanium Chic, But Make It Functional”
Specs:
Build: Titanium body (because plastic is for peasants).
Size: Compact enough to fit in a jacket pocket, but heavy enough to remind you it’s there.
Aesthetic: A mix of retro charm and futuristic minimalism.
Power On/Off:
The TVS II’s power switch is the lens ring itself. Twist it to turn the camera on, and twist it back to turn it off. It’s like a combination lock, but for photography.
Pro Tip: Be gentle with the lens ring. The TVS series is notorious for fragile ribbon cables, and you don’t want to be the person who breaks it.
Lens Cover:
The automatic lens cover is a thing of beauty. Twist the lens ring, and the cover slides open like a curtain at a Broadway show. It’s so satisfying, you’ll find yourself turning the camera on and off just to watch it.
Optical Performance: “Zeiss Magic in a Tiny Package”
Specs:
Focal Length: 28-56mm (because sometimes you can’t decide).
Aperture: f/3.5-6.5 (or “how to make your photos look… modest”).
Construction: Vario-Sonnar design, because Zeiss loves showing off.
Sharpness:
28mm: Sharp enough to count the pores on your subject’s nose (if you’re into that).
Introduction: When Your Camera Fits in Your Pocket (And Your Soul)
Let’s be real: the Ricoh GR1s is the James Dean of film cameras. It’s compact, it’s cool, and it doesn’t give a damn about your Instagram filters. Designed in the ‘90s, worshipped in the 2020s, this little black box is the reason your Fuji X100V feels like a try-hard.
I took it for a spin to channel my inner Daido Moriyama. Spoiler: I didn’t become a street photography legend. But I did scare a pigeon.
Design: “A Brick, But Make It Fashion”
Specs:
Size: Smaller than a TV remote (and twice as fun).
Weight: 185g (or “light enough to forget it’s in your jeans… until you sit on it”).
Aesthetic: A minimalist black slab that screams, “I read Sartre and drink black coffee.”
The GR1s looks like a calculator designed by a Japanese architect. But that chunky front grip? Pure genius. It’s like shaking hands with a robot that gets you.
Pro Tip: If your camera doesn’t make you feel like a spy, you’re holding it wrong.
Controls: “Simplicity, Thy Name Is Ricoh”
The GR1s’ controls are smoother than a jazz saxophonist:
Top Plate: A single “MODE” button toggles between auto-everything and Snap Mode (more on that later).
Left Side: A gorgeous exposure comp dial (+/- 2 stops) and flash selector. It’s like having a tiny DJ mixer for light.
Right Side: Nothing. Because sometimes less is more.
No menus. No touchscreens. Just pure, unadulterated clicks.
4. Snap Mode: “The Ninja Setting”
Engage Snap Mode, and the GR1s becomes a street-shooting samurai. It locks focus between 1-3 meters (translation: “everything in this general vicinity will be sharp-ish”). No autofocus lag. No whirring motors. Just click and chaos.
Why It Rules:
Perfect for capturing strangers mid-sneeze.
Makes you feel like a photojournalist fleeing paparazzi.
Why It’s Alone: Other “snap” cameras exist (looking at you, Samsung), but they’re about as refined as a kazoo solo.
The Lens: 28mm f/3.5 (Or “How to Be Wide Without Trying”)
Specs:
Focal Length: 28mm (because seeing the world through a mailbox slot is art).
Aperture: f/3.5 (not fast, but faster than your ex’s excuses).
This lens is sharper than a stand-up comedian’s punchlines. It’s also tiny—like a contact lens with ambitions. Moriyama’s high-contrast, gritty style? That’s all him. The GR1s just serves the canvas.
Fun Fact: Moriyama switched to digital GRs, but rumor has it his Wi-Fi password is still “ILOVEFILM.”
Stealth Level: “Ninja Approved”
Silent Shutter: The GR1s is quieter than a librarian’s sigh.
Blue LCD Backlight: Glows like a cyborg’s heartbeat in low light.
Wrist Strap: Lets you swing it like a pocket watch while pretending to check the time.
The Moriyama Paradox: “Destroyer or Savior?”
Moriyama’s high-contrast, chaotic style made the GR1s iconic. But it also cursed it. Newbies buy it expecting “instant art,” only to realize they have to do the work.
Moriyama’s Wisdom:
“Great photography is about waking people up to the drama in the mundane.”
“Also, maybe stop copying my contrast settings, Karen.”
Downsides: “It’s Not Perfect (But Neither Are You)”
Battery Dependency: No juice? No photos. Bring spares or embrace existential dread.
Plastic Parts: The film door creaks like a haunted house floor.
Price: Used GR1s prices now rival a kidney. Thanks, hipsters.
Final Verdict: “A Camera for the Brave, Not the Basic”
The Ricoh GR1s isn’t a camera. It’s a philosophy. A reminder that greatness fits in your pocket. A middle finger to megapixels and menu-diving.
Buy it if:
You think “vintage” isn’t just a filter.
You’re ready to see, not just shoot.
Skip it if:
You need autofocus faster than your attention span.
You think photography requires a backpack full of gear.
