The Forgotten Glass: Rediscovering B4 Lenses

At some point in every filmmaker’s life, you stop chasing the next piece of gear and realize your collection has quietly evolved into an archaeological dig site.
Every drawer, shelf, and Pelican case becomes a fossil layer of your creative past - each with its own strange artifact.

My boss and I have always shared a deep love for strange rigs and eccentric setups. You name it, we’ve probably owned it: shoulder rigs that could double as gym equipment, Frankenstein lenses adapted six times over, janky 3D rigs that looked like NASA prototypes. Our office used to be a temple of tinkering. If something looked overly complex or questionably useful, we probably bought two.

Over the years, we built up what can only be described as a museum of cinematic oddities - an ever-growing graveyard of ideas and inventions that once defined our process.

But time changes things. As we’ve both stepped back from daily shooting and handed the baton to new cinematographers, many of those beloved tools have been relegated to storage, sitting quietly in cases that haven’t seen daylight in years. Every now and then, someone on the team will suggest a piece of gear - something exotic or experimental - and I’ll smile before replying:

“We already have one.”

That line always gets the same reaction: disbelief, then laughter, and then someone inevitably says, “No way.” Moments later, I’m in the back, blowing dust off a Pelican case like I’m Indiana Jones uncovering lost treasure.

The Birth of a Series: Shit We Have But Never Use

That recurring moment led to an idea. If we’ve spent years collecting these tools, why not start actually using them again? Why not teach the next round of shooters what these strange contraptions were made for - and how they can still shine today?

That’s how Shit We Have But Never Use was born.

It’s an ongoing internal series where I dig up forgotten gear from our archives and put it back to work. Each episode is part history lesson, part experiment, and part therapy session for neglected equipment. I shoot a little project with it, document how it performs, and show our team what makes it special - and where it fits in a modern workflow.

The Blazar Remus shoot, in many ways, was the prototype for this series. It reminded me how much joy there is in rediscovery. You start with curiosity and end up somewhere between nostalgia and revelation.

“We Already Have That” - The B4 Discovery

When I first started researching B4 lenses, I thought I was diving into uncharted territory. I’d seen a few videos online, watched some cinematographers adapting them to mirrorless cameras, and thought, this might be worth exploring. So I went to tell my boss.

“Hey, I’ve been looking into adapting some old B4 broadcast lenses -” Before I could finish, he smiled.

“We already have that.”

Turns out, about a decade ago, he’d built a complete B4 setup. Bought a handful of Canon and Fujinon lenses, invested in the expensive adapters, ran a few experiments… and then the whole thing disappeared into storage. So I went digging. And sure enough, there it was: a full B4 kit, tucked away in the shadows, lenses packed neatly like relics of a forgotten broadcast empire.

A Little History: What Even Is a B4 Lens?

Before digital cinema, before mirrorless, before full frame obsession - there was broadcast. And in that world, the B4 mount reigned supreme. These lenses were designed for 2/3-inch 3CCD cameras - those heavy shoulder-mounted ENG units you’d see at news stations or live sports events. They were the workhorses of television: rugged, sharp, and precise.

Each lens projected its image through a prism block, which split the light into red, green, and blue, feeding three separate sensors. That’s how those old cameras captured broadcast-quality color and sharpness before digital sensors evolved. They were marvels of engineering. Fast, parfocal zooms with servo controls, macro capability, and near-infinite range. But when the world shifted to single-sensor CMOS cameras, the entire B4 ecosystem became obsolete overnight. So thousands of these lenses flooded the used market - once-$20,000 pieces of glass now selling for $300.

For years, they sat forgotten. Until recently, when a wave of cinematographers - many led by TikTok, YouTube, and curiosity - began adapting them for digital use. And suddenly, these lenses found new life.

Why B4 Lenses Are So Cheap (and Why Adapters Aren’t)

Here’s the paradox: the lenses themselves are cheap, but the adapters are not.

That’s because adapting a B4 lens to a Super35 or full-frame camera isn’t simple. Remember that prism block? When you remove it from the equation, the lens no longer focuses light the way it was designed to. You end up with heavy chromatic aberration - red and green outlines around everything.

High-end adapters from companies like Kipon and IB/E Optics fix that. They don’t just enlarge the image circle (so it covers a bigger sensor); they also optically correct for the missing prism. That correction is crucial. Without it, your footage looks like a fever dream.

But that magic doesn’t come cheap. A proper adapter can cost anywhere from $1,500 to $3,000 - often more than the lens itself.

The budget alternative?
Find a lens with a built-in 2x doubler.

The doubler was originally meant for extending your zoom range, but in this case, it enlarges the image circle enough to cover a Super35 sensor. Combine that with a simple glassless adapter, and you can often get a workable image without spending a fortune.

Of course, adding a doubler or a 2.6x corrective adapter means you lose a few stops of light - sometimes ending up around f/8 or higher, depending on the setup. That makes these lenses best suited for bright daylight or controlled lighting situations, but again - that’s part of the charm.

Is it optically perfect? No.
But it’s surprisingly good - and wonderfully weird.

Math, Magnification, and Madness

The fun part of using B4 lenses is how quickly the numbers get ridiculous.

Let’s take a standard 7.6–152mm B4 zoom.
Throw the doubler on, and suddenly you’re at 15.2–304mm. Then add a 2.6x corrective adapter, and now your effective range is something like 40mm to 790mm in full-frame terms.

That’s absurd reach in a lens the size of a Pringles can.
It’s like having a wildlife lens and a documentary zoom in your backpack at once.

Of course, it’s not a smooth continuous zoom - you have to engage the doubler halfway through - but the versatility is unmatched.

The Look: Imperfectly Perfect

So what does it look like?

In short: beautiful chaos.

B4 lenses have a character that’s hard to describe until you see it. The edges bloom slightly, the contrast is lower, and highlights have a vintage roll-off that feels almost filmic. It’s not the clean, razor-sharp aesthetic of modern cinema glass - it’s more tactile, more analog, more human.

Pair it with a slightly lower-resolution sensor, or shoot in log and grade gently, and it gives you that “shot on tape” feeling that’s suddenly back in vogue. There’s texture, falloff, and that unpredictable patina that reminds you someone built this thing with gears and glass, not algorithms.

For me, it scratches the same itch as shooting vintage still lenses on modern bodies - it adds soul.

Canon’s Naming Code: Deciphering the Alphabet Soup

If you’re exploring the B4 market, Canon made some of the best examples, and their naming system - while confusing - actually tells you everything:

• J series: Standard definition lenses from the early era. Great character, soft corners, often the cheapest.

• HJ series: The “High Definition” generation, made for HD broadcast cameras. Sharper, cleaner, often newer.

• x20, x22, x25 etc.: The zoom ratio. Multiply by the widest focal length to get the telephoto end.

• IRSE: Internal Remote Servo Electric. These have full servo zoom and focus controls.

• IASD: Internal Auto Servo Drive - these sometimes feature automatic iris and motorized zoom.

• IAX: Typically lighter models with simpler control systems.

For example, a Canon HJ22x7.6 IRSE means it starts at 7.6mm on the wide end, has a 22x zoom ratio, and includes servo zoom control - perfect for news or documentary-style movement.

If you’re not using motorized zooms, you can often remove the servo housing entirely, making the lens much more compact. That’s usually my move - it turns what looks like a news lens into something sleek and usable for handheld or gimbal work.

The Upsides

• Huge zoom range in a compact body

• Parfocal design (stays in focus throughout the zoom)

• Macro capabilities on many models

• Vintage broadcast look that blends film softness with video sharpness

• Affordable entry point to high-quality optics

• Endless adaptability for creative experimentation

For run-and-gun shooters, doc-style cinematographers, or anyone wanting to experiment with characterful zooms, B4 glass can be a goldmine.

Don’t worry, I use a lens support when I’m not just taking pictures.

The Downsides (Because Balance Matters)

Of course, there are trade-offs. Most B4 lenses aren’t fast - the widest aperture often sits around f/1.8, but it ramps up as you zoom, sometimes hitting f/4 or slower. Add in a doubler or corrective adapter, and you can easily be working around f/8 or f/11. That means low light is a challenge.

And if you’re after a “clean” look, you won’t find it here. Even the HD versions have quirks - soft corners, vignetting, and that unmistakable video-era color.

But honestly, that’s part of the charm.
If you wanted perfection, you wouldn’t be dusting off twenty-year-old broadcast glass.

Practical Use: Nature, Nostalgia, and New Life

To really put the lens through its paces, I started shooting nature footage - using the enormous zoom range to my advantage. If I’d taken it to Yellowstone, I could’ve easily captured bison grazing across the valley. But since I’m back home in Illinois, I’ve settled for cows and pigs. Even so, the experience is delightful. The lens feels like a wildlife documentarian’s secret weapon - quiet, stable, and capable of bringing distant life right to your screen.

And beyond the serious stuff, it makes family videos genuinely fun again. There’s something about the look that feels like Super8 or VHS - except sharper, smoother, and captured in ProRes. The imperfections give ordinary moments character: kids running in the yard, sunlight flickering through trees, laughter caught in motion. It’s nostalgia bottled, but with better color and dynamic range.

Rediscovery as a Creative Act

This project - like the Blazar Remus before it - reminded me that creativity often comes from curiosity, not new purchases.
Sometimes the most exciting thing you can do is look backward.

Each of these experiments has been a little act of rediscovery. The B4 lenses brought me back to a mindset of play: taking something outdated and bending it to modern needs. In the process, it’s helped me merge my love of film photography aesthetics with my digital workflow.

I’ve been on a roll lately, chasing that tactile, imperfect, analog feel in motion. The Blazar opened the door - but the B4s kicked it wide open.

And somewhere in the back of the studio, in another forgotten Pelican case, I can already hear the next experiment calling.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this - it’s that the best stories usually start with the same five words:

“We already have that.”