Nikon Zf Review: Is This the Right Camera for You?

I love things that are old, or have the capacity to become old. Technology of the past that ages like fine wine has always given me joy. And old tech that still works and can fulfill an actual use case is my favorite. Since I am infected with the photo bug, old cameras and old lenses are at the top of the list of functional, mechanical devices that hold a special kind of beauty—not only because of the design aspect, but also because of the satisfying clicks and clacks the mechanical parts make when used.

I am old enough to have started photography before digital, so my first ever camera was a Soviet‑made 35mm rangefinder copy of a Western design that belonged to my father. It broke, and my dad got rid of it after being told that it could not be fixed anymore, deciding it was nothing but clutter. It was another old, Soviet‑built barn find that reignited my interest in photography: a Pajtás camera that sat in a cabinet at my grandma’s house. A 6×6 mechanical marvel of Soviet (Hungarian) industry, it did not have a focusing mechanism, the only shutter speed was 1/30s, and it had three aperture settings: f/8, f/11, and f/16. The built‑in lens was an 80mm, the equivalent of 44mm in full‑frame terms. Out of a 12‑image black‑and‑white roll I tried to shoot once, exactly one image was exposed well enough for the machine at the local photo shop to turn into a usable negative.

The Pajtás of Grandpa. The undisputed top dog of 6×6 cameras. This one is all original with its etui, all of its zero functions working perfectly. It’s worth north of 1 million USD, but you can have it for 100,000 USD if you’re quick (+ shipping). From a time when men were men, photography required real skill, and cameras came with a 3/8″‑16 tripod socket instead of the measly 1/4″ of today.

This love of clutter… I mean beautiful, old tech led me to look longingly at 35mm Nikon cameras like the FM2, FA, or FE2. I always wanted to own one purely for nostalgia’s sake, but reality kept stopping me. Spending 800 to 1000 USD on a film camera plus a compatible lens that I would never actually use — because I’m not nostalgic enough to deal with developing film — only to let it sit on a shelf collecting dust… well, that always stopped me right before clicking the buy button.

Then Nikon came along with the genius idea of giving me all the nostalgia I could wish for in a modern, digital full‑frame camera: the Zf. My GAS, which I thought I had finally overcome after years of media hype and influencer fanfare around every new camera release, flared up with unprecedented force, fueled by a mix of “How pretty!” and “Such a classic design!”. All my wishes were met by the Nikon design team: looks old, but takes pictures made of pixels—I can actually use this instead of only dusting it off every few weeks. The only thing remaining? Choose a color… and I did. They haven’t been successful at selling me a leather etui yet —but we’ll see.

Meet my Zf in glorious black and Bordeaux.

The ergonomics conundrum

Although I thought the Zf would be the perfect camera to satisfy me visually and functionally, the first few weeks after buying it, it saw very little real‑world action. The first problems arose right at the first steps of setting it up. I try to have all my cameras configured with the same custom button layout and the same “i” menu settings, so switching from one to another is seamless. With a body that has fewer custom buttons than some entry‑level DSLRs of the past decade, setting up the Zf the same way as a Z5/Z6/Z7‑style body simply was not an option. Being stubborn, I still tried, which only caused frustration.

Another aspect of the Zf adding to the frustration was the ergonomics — or shall I say, the complete lack of them.

I am used to holding my cameras single‑handedly by the comfortable grip. I rarely use straps at all. Holding the Zf this way is an impossible task; my hand tired after just a few minutes, resulting in cramping fingers. When purchasing it, I decided not to buy the optional SmallRig grip that could be bundled with the camera in the Nikon store. I guess Nikon themselves were very aware of the fact that the old‑timey body shape does not work well with the modern, big, and heavy lenses that the Nikon Z line boasts. Don’t get me wrong, all the Z lenses are beautiful — but small and light they are not.

I also decided against buying the Z 40mm f/2 pancake lens available in a bundle, simply because I am not a huge fan of the 40mm focal length.

Trying to use the Zf as any other modern Z‑line camera failed miserably, and I felt buyer’s remorse; would this camera just sit on a shelf and collect dust like the FM2 would have? That would have been a cheaper piece of decoration… But I wasn’t willing to give up on My Precious!

I forced myself to figure out a workable custom button configuration by only assigning settings that I would actually need during photography, and I forced myself to take the camera out on a shoot.

We have a Twelve Days of Christmas tradition around these parts called the Perchtenlauf, or Perchtenrun. It is an ancient Alpine midwinter procession custom meant to drive out evil spirits and awaken nature. Men and women dressed as masked Schiach‑ and Schönperchten march through the streets of our local community, making noise to chase away evil spirits and singing blessings for the new year and for spring to come. I decided to take my unloved Zf and really put it to the test photographing this community event.

You can check out the short documentary I created about this custom in the YouTube video below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_k0fFhYlW40

I put a strap on the body, brought along the Z 35mm f/1.8 S and the Z 50mm f/1.8 S prime lenses together with the Z 105mm f/2.8 macro lens for the low‑light portrait shooting, and tried to make the best of it. The very first lesson learned was this: if you bought a camera with a vintage design and top dials, do not try to use it without the top dials. You can set the Zf dials to “C,” which disables them for ISO and shutter speed and transfers those functions to the front and back command dials. Combine this with the fact that the Zf does not have an ISO button like all the other Z‑line bodies, and you are missing one more custom button, causing even more frustration.

A simple revelation fixed this problem: use the Zf with two hands. The left hand cups the camera and accesses the ISO top dial from the left side, and the right hand manages the shutter‑speed top dial and the shutter button. Back buttons and the one custom button on the front are also managed by the right hand, just like on any other camera body. This fixes the right‑hand fatigue issue; holding the camera two‑handed allows the right hand to grip it in a more relaxed manner.

Here are some of my favorite images taken during the event:

At this point not only did I lose all the frustration, I was enjoying the Zf! The tactile response of the top dials, the reassuring clicks with every turn of them, made the experience immersive. I did not have to remove my eye from the viewfinder at all to verify settings or search for buttons. The camera, used this way, had a flow — a feeling of everything being in the right place and working effortlessly.

It also performed like a modern camera in every aspect: the autofocus was snappy, just like on any other Expeed 7–generation Nikon. Subject detection and 3D tracking worked flawlessly, even though this was an extremely low‑light situation with dim street lights and sometimes only torches illuminating the scene. The Zf, even though marketed as a photography camera, isn’t a slouch when it comes to video features either. The YouTube documentary was shot in N‑LOG and looked very clean, even with the ISO regularly set to 6400 and above. Any shots that show noise in the documentary were taken with a phone in moments when 35mm was simply not wide enough. I did not think I would need my 20mm f/1.8 and left it at home.

Is the Nikon Zf for you then?

The Nikon Zf ended up being exactly what I hoped for — not because it’s perfect, but because it’s purposeful. It’s a camera that rewards you when you use it the way it was designed to be used: with intention, with both hands, and with a willingness to embrace the tactile joy of photography. Once I stopped fighting it and started working with it, everything clicked — literally and figuratively.

What surprised me most was how quickly it became the camera I reach for when I simply want to enjoy taking pictures. Not for work, not for testing gear, not for chasing specs — but for the sheer pleasure of creating images. It sits on my desk, not in a cabinet, because it makes me want to pick it up. That alone says more than any spec sheet ever could.

And yes, it can absolutely be your only camera. It’s fast enough, capable enough, and flexible enough for almost anything: portraits, street, casual wildlife, kids running around, pets doing zoomies, even low‑light documentary work. Use the top dials, embrace the design, let it guide your shooting style a little — and it becomes a genuinely delightful tool.

What about the lenses

Here’s the spec of dust in the well-oiled machine.

Nikon did make “SE” versions of their pancake 26mm and 40mm lenses, but that’s the full extent of the vintage-styled lineup. All other Z-mount lenses are designed with modern ergonomics in mind — their size, weight, and on-lens controls just don’t fit the Zf. None of the Z-mount lenses — including the SE ones — has a dedicated aperture ring, and not even all S-line lenses have a customizable control ring to assign aperture to.

The only autofocus lenses for the Zf with aperture rings come from Chinese third-party manufacturers like Viltrox, who at the time of writing are being sued by Nikon for patent infringement. So the future compatibility of those lenses is… uncertain.

My go-to lens choices for the Zf are the S-line f/1.8 primes: the 20mm, 35mm, and 50mm. For portraits and event photography, I use my Z MC 105mm f/2.8 VR S macro lens. But these are all lenses I already owned and used. None of Nikon’s current lineup enticed me to buy anything specifically for the Zf.

The new f/1.4 line — with a 35mm and a 50mm — does have a control ring that the f/1.8 line lacks, but they’re non–S-line lenses and less sharp. It didn’t make sense for me to double up on those focal lengths just for a control ring.

And even with all these negatives…

The Zf isn’t just a camera that looks like the past. It’s a camera that reminds you why you fell in love with photography in the first place.