BEHIND THE LENSES: Rediscovering Quiapo’s last-standing film camera obsession

The sharp metallic click of a shutter, the distinct smell of old leather cases, and the chaotic hum of Hidalgo Street–these are the fading heartbeats of a bygone era. 

If the repair shop is where cameras go to be healed, Hidalgo Street is where they are hunted. It may have lost the grandeur of Old Manila–often described as hot, crowded, and shabby–but for the true aficionado, this strip is hallowed ground.

While malls offer air-conditioned comfort, Hidalgo offers character and, more importantly, a bargain. According to seasoned bloggers and local enthusiasts, gear here is significantly cheaper. The secret? Lower rent and the “Store Warranty” system.

The lost art of the apprentice

This coming September, Jhun Magalso marks his 26th year in the industry. He started in the year 2000, a time when digital cameras were just expensive novelties and film was still king. But now, as he sits behind his workbench surrounded by the carcasses of broken cameras, he witnesses a different reality. 

The film era isn’t just ending; for him, it is slowly becoming a memory.

During the afternoon heat of Quiapo, Jhun tinkers with a mechanism that is likely older than most of the students passing by. His hands move with a muscle memory developed over two and a half decades.

“May tinuturuan ako dati, pero nasa probinsya na siya,” Jhun said. “Noon, may apprentice pa, ngayon wala na.”

Today, that lineage has been broken. According to Jhun, the culture of apprenticeship is gone. There are no young heirs waiting to inherit the small screwdrivers and lens spanners. 

The knowledge of how to revive a mechanical heart is disappearing with the generation that mastered it.

Yashica, Leica, and everything in between

When asked which camera was the most interesting he had ever repaired, Jhun paused. It’s a question he can’t answer with just one name. To him, whether it is a rugged Yashica or an esteemed Leica, they all demand the same respect.

“Di naman magkakaiba yan, syempre kada camera, iba’t iba, irerepair pa rin,” he said. For a technician like Jhun, the brand doesn’t matter as much as the soul of the machine. Despite the convenience of modern technology, his stance remains firm: “Film is still the best.”

From tools to trophies

However, the reality of the trade is heavy. The shelves that used to house tools of the trade are now becoming display cases.

“Pawala rin talaga ang film,” Jhun admitted, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and nostalgia. “Yung iba, pang display na lang talaga.”

Unlike his boss, who maintains a large collection, Jhun describes himself simply: “Technician lang ako.” 

He has a few cameras on display, but they serve as reminders of a time when these machines captured weddings, revolutions, and birthdays. Now, they sit silent, stripped of their purpose, admired only for their aesthetic rather than their function.

The final frame

Founded on chemicals and light, the world of film photography has seen the Philippines evolve. But 26 years later, the industry has changed drastically. The busy repair shops are quieting down.

Yet, one thing stays the same: the dedication of men like Jhun Magalso. He remains the custodian of these mechanical memories, keeping the gears turning for as long as he can.

So whether you are shooting with a high-end Leica, the handy Rolleiflex, or a dusty point-and-shoot–treasure that roll of film. Because for technicians like Jhun, every click of the shutter is a defiance against time, keeping the “best” medium alive for just one more shot.