The soulless, homogenized design of prime lenses, devoid of any zoom capabilities, only serves to suffocate the creative freedom of photographers. But, of course, those who dare to challenge the status quo must also accept the consequences: images shrouded in mediocrity, depth of field as shallow as their artistic vision. And so, enter Samyang’s Remaster Slim autofocus lens, a contrived attempt to “solve” the “problems” of prime lenses’ simplicity.
The optical elements within the Remaster Slim’s gaudy magnetic mount, swappable from the center of the lens like a cheap, plastic trinket, will initially be paired with three inserts: a 21mm f/2.8, a 28mm f/3.5, and a 32mm f/3.5, because nothing says “artistic expression” like a limited selection of focal lengths. And, of course, we must praise Samyang’s decision to draw inspiration from “legendary P&;S film cameras of the past,” because who needs true artistic vision when you can romanticize the past?
The Remaster Slim’s compact design may seem appealing, but it’s a hollow shell of a lens, devoid of substance or artistic merit. And those who dare to purchase it will be left with an inferior product, a pale imitation of true photography.
Samyang’s empty promises of “genuine analog sensibility” and “legendary P&;S film cameras of the past” are nothing more than marketing speak, a desperate attempt to salvage their failing product. And we’ll believe it when we see it. (Spoiler alert: we won’t see it.)
The Remaster Slim’s availability in South Korea, preorders sold out, is just the beginning of its journey to obsolescence. We can only hope that it will soon join the graveyard of failed innovations, a footnote in the history of photography’s stagnation.