The musty smell of grandpa’s attic always triggered a familiar itch in my palms: the yearning to get my hands on some forgotten photographic treasure. Today, that treasure is the Kodak Brownie Hawkeye Flash.

This wasn’t the mint-condition Hawkeye I’d dreamt about as a kid, but hey, it’s got character. The metal wind knob, a telltale sign of the early ’50s model, felt wonderfully cool beneath my fingers as I hefted the camera. My initial reaction? Respect. This box camera represents an era when simplicity was king, an era where flash photography meant a dedicated bulb, not an integrated LED. The simplicity is… almost beautiful.

Now, the film situation. That’s the main hurdle with these old beauties. The original 620 film format is, shall we say, “challenging” to source reliably in our modern era. You can’t just waltz down to the local camera shop for a fresh roll. The workaround? That’s where things get interesting: 120 film is the answer! You’ll need to respool it on a 620 spool, or trim the edges of the 120 spool to fit, which is not for the faint of heart. Consider it a rite of passage. A bit of darkroom fiddling is expected. (Or, if you’re like me, you will have to learn how to do it.)

Compared to the later, plastic-bodied Hawkeyes, this one feels downright sturdy. Even the built-in flash assembly, a bulbous attachment I expect to get a good, bright, blast from when I test it out.

Here’s the deal: the single-element lens is no match for a Leica, of course. But this isn’t about pixel-peeping. It’s about the experience. It’s about the satisfaction of capturing a moment on a device that predates digital everything. And let’s be honest: the light leaks, the soft focus, the inherent limitations… they contribute to a specific, evocative aesthetic.

The drawback? The flashbulbs, of course. Finding compatible bulbs, and making sure you have them before you go on your photo excursion is crucial.

So, should you buy this Brownie Hawkeye Flash? If you’re the kind of shooter who likes vintage gear with a bit of legwork required – someone who loves a tangible process and doesn’t mind a touch of imperfection? Absolutely. Go get that thing! Just make sure you have some 620 spools on hand (or a well-stocked stash of 120 and time on your hands). You won’t regret it. The images, when you finally get them back from the developer, have a certain character to them. And that’s priceless.