Falling Back in Love with Anamorphic: Blazar Remus
Anamorphic has always been one of those things for me, like a forbidden fruit in the orchard of filmmaking. I’d tasted it early in my career, fallen for its charms, and then quickly learned just how difficult it was to make it a regular part of my toolkit. For years it sat in this strange space: lenses that either cost more than a new car, or lenses that were cheap and uninspired.
I wanted anamorphic with character. That’s what the Cooke Anamorphic/i Special Flares had when I first shot with them. Gorgeous streaks of light that felt alive. Rich color and falloff that carried the signature “Cooke look” into the widescreen realm. A presence in the image that made it feel like cinema instead of video. But at $40,000 a pop? Those weren’t lenses you kept in the closet for rainy days. Those were high-end tools reserved for the kind of projects where you didn’t flinch at a five-figure rental bill.
On the other side were the “affordable” lenses, entry-level anamorphics that technically squeezed an image but gave you none of the magic. Flat, sterile, sometimes almost digital in their lifelessness. A stretched image isn’t the point of anamorphic. The point is soul.
It left me in a frustrating middle ground: loving the look, rarely able to justify using it.
But then things started to change.
A Quick History of Anamorphic
To understand why anamorphic has been such a niche for so long, it helps to go back to the beginning.
The concept dates back to the early 20th century, when French inventor Henri Chrétien developed the first anamorphic process for military applications, designed to give tank drivers a wider field of view without needing massive periscope systems. Hollywood, ever on the lookout for something new, adapted the technology in the 1950s. The industry was in a panic: television was eating into ticket sales, and studios needed something that would make audiences leave the living room and return to the theater.
The answer was widescreen spectacle. CinemaScope debuted with The Robe in 1953, shot on Bausch & Lomb anamorphics. Suddenly, movies had an epic sweep that television couldn’t match. The ultra-wide aspect ratios, the flares, the stretched faces and landscapes, it all screamed “this is bigger than life.”
But from the start, anamorphic lenses were fiendishly complicated to design. You weren’t just bending light onto film, you were compressing it horizontally, then expecting a projection lens to reverse the process cleanly. The glass had to resolve sharpness across the frame while simultaneously producing consistent squeeze ratios, controlling aberrations, and dealing with the fact that you were asking optics to behave in ways they didn’t want to.
The result? These lenses were massive, heavy, and expensive. They were feats of optical engineering, hand-assembled by the best minds in the business. For decades, anamorphic remained the realm of rental houses and blockbuster budgets.
Why Anamorphic Is So Hard to Do Well
The difficulty lies in the very nature of anamorphic optics.
Squeeze Ratio Precision
If your 2x lens isn’t exactly 2x across the frame, you end up with images that stretch differently in the center than on the edges. Straight lines start curving unpredictably. Faces warp. This can be characterful to a point, but uncontrolled it becomes distracting. Designing a system that compresses evenly across the frame is extremely difficult.Focus Breathing & Distortion
Anamorphic lenses “breathe” differently when racking focus, sometimes stretching or squishing the image in ways spherical lenses don’t. Keeping that consistent and pleasing is a nightmare for designers.Aberrations & Bokeh
One of the signatures of anamorphic is the oval-shaped bokeh. Achieving that requires complex optical groups that often introduce chromatic aberrations or loss of sharpness. Balancing these trade-offs while still making a usable lens is where the artistry lies.Build Complexity
True anamorphic designs often require double the optical elements of spherical lenses, with precise alignments that can’t drift. That’s why so many vintage anamorphics are massive cylinders that weigh as much as a bowling ball.
For decades, the only people who could pull it off were companies like Panavision, Cooke, Hawk, and Zeiss. And they charged accordingly.
The Rise of Affordable Anamorphic
Anamorphic started to become more accessible when Atlas Lens Co. entered the scene. Their Orion series wasn’t cheap by everyday standards, but at around $8,000 per lens it was far more attainable than the $40,000 Cookes or Hawks. Atlas proved there was demand for serious, characterful anamorphic glass that didn’t require a Hollywood budget.
Meanwhile, Chinese manufacturers were already gaining ground in the world of spherical lenses. Brands like Laowa, Viltrox, 7Artisans, and Meike were offering creative optics at prices no one thought possible a decade before. Once Atlas showed anamorphic could come down to indie levels, those same companies began applying their momentum to anamorphic designs.
That’s where Sirui came in. They were one of the first Chinese brands to bring anamorphic into the truly affordable space, selling lenses for a few hundred dollars instead of thousands. It was groundbreaking to see anamorphic at that price, but in dropping from $8,000 to sub-$1,000, a lot of the soul was lost. Their early lenses were clean and clinical, the flares felt forced, and the rendering lacked the magic that makes anamorphic worth the hassle. The Siruis were great for people who thought anamorphic was just blue streaks and a wide image. If that’s what you’re after, they’re probably just fine, but anamorphic is about so much more than that.
Still, Sirui proved it could be done. They opened the door. And as the years went on, these companies didn’t stop iterating. Coatings improved, mechanics refined, and optical designs became more ambitious. What began as “cheap anamorphic” started turning into “good anamorphic at a fair price.”
That’s the environment Blazar stepped into.
Blazar and the Remus Series
Blazar positioned themselves differently from the start. They weren’t just trying to make anamorphic accessible. They wanted to make it inspiring.
When they launched the Remus series, critics were quick to notice. These lenses weren’t pretending to be Cookes or Hawks. They weren’t claiming technical perfection. Instead, they offered something rare in the sub-$5,000 category: soul.
Build quality: Surprisingly tank-like. All-metal housings, smooth geared focus rings, dampened mechanics. They felt like cine lenses, not rehoused still glass.
Optical character: Slight barrel distortion instead of the more common pincushion. That one choice made them feel expansive, painterly, almost like a wide canvas instead of a box.
Flare personality: Present but not overwhelming. More refined than Sirui’s neon streaks, less chaotic than Cooke’s wild rainbows.
Practicality: With a 1.5x squeeze ratio suited to 16:9 sensors, they played beautifully with modern hybrid cameras. Even if your body lacked internal desqueeze, the math worked out easily in post.
Reviewers summed it up simply: these lenses punched way above their weight.
My Own Shift: From Sirui to Blazar
By the time we got our set of Blazar Remus lenses at work, I was in a bit of a creative rut. I’d shot plenty of projects, but my day to day low-end tools were starting to feel routine and uninspiring. I was missing that deeper connection to the craft, the kind of feeling I usually only get from film photography. The high-end equipment I used did deliver the satisfaction I was searching for, but let’s be honest - what was I going to do, pull out a Cooke anamorphic and an Arri Alexa Mini to film my kids’ home videos? I was looking for something more attainable on a daily basis to jolt me back into curiosity.
The moment I mounted a Remus onto my Nikon Z8, I knew I had it.
The image had quirks in all the right places. Straight lines bent gently outward. The frame felt wide and alive. Flares danced without dominating. Most importantly, it felt fun again. I wasn’t just documenting, I was painting.
It reminded me of the first time I shot on Cooke Special Flares. That sense that the lens itself was part of the story, not just a transparent piece of glass. Only this time, I wasn’t working with a $200,000 kit.
Taking Them Into the Wild
That little test shoot quickly escalated. My next big trip was to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons, and I knew the Remus had to come with me.
If you’ve ever been to the Tetons, you know they demand a widescreen treatment. Those jagged peaks cutting into the dawn sky, the endless plains rolling beneath them, it’s cinematic in the truest sense. With the Remus, it felt like I was seeing them as they were meant to be seen.
It rained. Hard. The kind of cold, mountain rain that makes you wonder if your gear is going to make it home. But the Remus didn’t flinch. Focus stayed smooth, glass stayed clear. These weren’t fragile showpieces, they were tools ready for the field.
And the footage? Full of life. The subtle barrel distortion added a painterly touch to the mountains. The flares softened the edges of sunlight. The images felt storied. Most of what I shot was on the 35mm, which technically only covers Super35. Still, with some lens correction in DaVinci I found I barely needed to crop in to make it work on full frame. Eventually I picked up the 33mm so I could cover full frame properly, but it’s impressive just how close the 35mm comes to working edge to edge.
Downsides and Inconveniences
For all their strengths, the Blazar Remus lenses aren’t without quirks. That barrel distortion that gives them such a painterly look can also be a bit much at the edges, especially if you’re shooting architecture or anything with straight verticals. Thankfully, it’s easily correctable in post with software like DaVinci Resolve, but it’s worth noting.
They’re also not featherweights. Built like proper cine glass, they have heft, which I personally don’t mind but which might make smaller setups front-heavy. And while their flare personality is more restrained than some competitors, in certain lighting situations you’ll still get flares that dominate the frame if you’re not careful.
They also exhibit some focus breathing, which is noticeable when pulling focus in tighter scenes. It isn’t extreme, but it’s there and something to account for if your style involves a lot of racking focus. None of these are deal-breakers for me. In fact, they’re part of the charm. But if you’re coming from the world of super-clinical spherical primes, they’ll take a little adjustment.
The Remus Specs
Blazar currently sells two curated Remus 1.5x sets. Set A contains 45mm T2.0, 65mm T2.0, and 100mm T2.8. Set B contains 50mm T2.0, 85mm T2.8, and 125mm T4.0. The 33mm T1.8 can be added to either set as an optional fourth lens. All lenses listed below are full frame, except the 35mm T1.6 which is Super35 only.
Set A
Remus 45mm T2.0 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.68 m
Weight: ~720 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Remus 65mm T2.0 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.69 m
Weight: ~782 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Remus 100mm T2.8 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.71 m
Weight: ~788 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Set B
Remus 50mm T2.0 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.74 m
Weight: ~716 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Remus 85mm T2.8 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.69 m
Weight: ~811 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Remus 125mm T4.0 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.76 m
Weight: ~820 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Optional add-on
Remus 33mm T1.8 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Full Frame
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.49 m
Weight: ~880 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Additional focal length
Remus 35mm T1.6 1.5x Anamorphic
Coverage: Super35
Squeeze Ratio: 1.5x
Close Focus: ~0.74 m
Weight: ~742 g (PL)
Mounts: PL, EF
Front Diameter: 80 mm, Filter Thread: 77 mm
Together, these sets cover wide through telephoto with a consistent 1.5x squeeze and uniform mechanics. A retail five lens bundle also exists that packages 33mm, 50mm, 65mm, 85mm, and 125mm for full frame workflows.
Why the Remus Matters
So why are these lenses getting so much praise?
Because they’ve done what felt impossible for decades:
Delivered real anamorphic character without the price tag of a car.
Struck a balance between usability and imperfection.
Given filmmakers a way to shoot anamorphic on common cameras without workflow nightmares.
For me, the Remus isn’t just another lens. It’s a reminder that accessibility doesn’t have to mean compromise. That creativity doesn’t have to wait for a big budget. That you can step outside with a Nikon Z8 and a lens that costs less than a month of Cooke rentals, and still feel like you’re making cinema.
Conclusion: Rediscovering the Magic
Anamorphic used to be an occasional fling, something I borrowed, fell in love with, and gave back, knowing it wasn’t part of my day-to-day.
Blazar changed that.
The Remus series has given me something I thought was reserved for high-budget shoots: characterful anamorphic glass that I actually want to carry, use, and trust. It broke me out of a rut. It reminded me of the magic that drew me to filmmaking in the first place.
When I stood in front of a Teton sunrise with the Remus on my camera, it felt like anamorphic had finally come down from the mountaintop. Not as a compromise. Not as a gimmick. But as a tool for real stories.
And that’s why I’ll keep shooting with them. Not because they’re perfect, but because they’re alive.
