Camera Review · Canon 7
The Poor Man's Leica

Listen. You don’t need a Leica. You just don’t... well, unless you already have one. They’re great, sure - extremely well-engineered, handsome, coveted… but they’re expensive. Ridiculously so. And so are the lenses. Even non-Leica M-mount lenses aren’t that cheap, unless you buy Chinese brands which I think can be a bit hit and miss. And using a Leica won’t make you a better photographer – just look at Brooklyn Beckham.
What would I suggest then, if you’re in the market for a solid, fun to use and affordable 35mm film rangefinder? Well, the Canon 7, of course! That’s why you’re here.
Now. I’m not a technical expert on camera technology, specs or mechanics. But I am a decent photographer, so let’s talk about the Canon 7 and how it’s arrived at the top of my list for my photography daily carry.
Introduced in 1961, the Canon 7 was the final major iteration of Canon line of rangefinders (along with the iterative 7S and final 7Sz) before moving fully into SLR design and production. The Canon 7 features an L39/LTM lens mount, a large and extremely bright, parallax-corrected viewfinder, a fully integrated dual-range solar-reactive selenium light meter and metal focal plane shutter.
I bought mine from Japan on eBay, body only (with working meter!) for the princely sum of £134 – in that, there’s a funny tale. The camera I thought I had bought was in perfect condition with the exception of one tiny pin-drop dent above the ‘C’ in Canon. But when this Canon 7 arrived, I noticed there was no dent above the C. The light meter window also had a hairline crack which the advert didn’t show – but the meter still worked and after testing it, is generally really accurate. I also noticed the serial number was different. How odd. So I emailed the seller, and explained that they had sent a different camera to the one I had bought. A few hours later, they replied apologising and offered me a 50% refund which I readily agreed to.
So my Canon 7 body ended up costing me £67. Bear in mind a Leica M5 body will run you in excess of £1250.
Now, I will caveat that with the cost of my (only) lens for this camera being quite high, but its cost is still way, way below any premium Leica glass. As my favoured focal length is 35mm, I opted for what is dubbed online (which absolutely means it’s true) as “the Japanese Summicron”, aka the tiny Canon 35mm f2 with LTM mount, or “Canon Black”. This ran me up about £350, again from Japan; it’s in absolutely wonderful condition and the images it produces are crisp. I was genuinely surprised when it arrived, it really is very compact.
All in all, the body and lens have me in photographic heaven. I bring this combo with me everywhere. Since I bought it in July, I’ve taken almost 1000 photos with it. There’s just something about it which, despite various caveats I mention in this review, I just love.
But after four of months of having it, I started having those intrusive thoughts, “If you enjoy using a rangefinder this much, maybe you should buy an M2…” or, “Maybe you could buy an M5…” So, I sat down, looked at the maths, did some research, did some sums, and thought, “Yeah, I could afford an older, second hand Leica”.
Did I buy one? No. I did not.
I had the ballpark amount of money together and I’d noted down a few for sale on eBay to possibly buy. And one afternoon, I sat down with my Canon 7 in a coffee shop during a photowalk to load some XP2 Super and refuel with an oat latte. I thought objectively to myself about it. Why was I thinking of buying a Leica? What was the need? I couldn’t think of a real need to buy one other than either incurable GAS or that I thought it was the next “step”. What step, I don’t know, except maybe a step into poverty by throwing a grand at a camera. So I thought about this a good while and decided nope; I had everything I needed in my hands, right now. (I actually ended up buying a Pentax 645, but that's a story for another time.)
The Canon 7 is a workhorse of a camera that’s still kickin’ 60 years later. It’s easy and simple to use, built like a tank and (I think, at least) really good looking. Others might disagree on that last point. The top-plate is clean, featuring from left to right: rewind crank, frame line selection dial, light meter, shutter speed (and ISO indicator), shutter button, frame counter and advance lever. It’s not too heavy, it’s easy to load film, the light meter is easy to read, the viewfinder is large, its frame lines are bright and clear. On the light meter, some might find it odd having the dial top mounted, but as someone who does a lot of zone-focussing for rapid street photography, I can adjust my shutter speed and aperture according to the ambient light levels while I walk, only raising the camera to my eye to frame and fire which I find incredibly dynamic. Even as a glasses wearer, the 35mm frame lines (my favourite focal length) are on the edge of what I can see, so I can compose swiftly. It’s also fairly discreet – it isn’t as whisper-quiet as a leaf-shutter, and I don’t think it’s as quiet as a Leica, but it isn’t anything like the apocalyptic mirror slap of my Olympus Pen FT. Sure, it probably needs a CLA but that’ll happen in 2027. I’ve taken some of my favourite photos with it in the few months I’ve owned it.
Let’s also talk about that 35mm f2 “Japanese Summicron” (if you’re into such monikers, I tend not to be). The lens renders colour and tonality beautifully, and it’s tack sharp. Older Canon glass is just magical. This thing is tiny but the images it produces hit hard and are just so fabulous, and in my opinion it’s absolutely worth the £350 I paid for it and compared to a Leica equivalent which will run you almost 10x that amount. The lens is really compact but delivers big results. One thing I absolutely love about this tiny lens is that is does not have a focussing tab. I’ve tried, and failed, to love these before. Some swear by them for fast focus, but they just make me swear while I fumble about with a finger trying to find it, it not being where I want it to be, and end up missing a shot in the process. I find without the tab I focus fast because the rangefinder patch’s contrast is really obvious, and the lens is buttery smooth with a short focus throw. The aperture ring can be a bit janky which seems to be a known issue with these lenses, in that it sometimes doesn’t quite want to sit in the indentation and needs some gentle convincing to do so, but I don’t let it bother me because everything else is top tier. Owning a Canon 7 opens up the entire LTM range of lenses – which is vast – and often highly affordable with a whole host of gems to choose from.
About the camera
Camera
Canon 7
Lens used
Canon 35mm f2 LTM
Production period
1961 - 1965
The camera

Using it
So. Let’s get some caveats out in the open and what some might call deal-breakers:
The Canon 7 is old and has a maximum shutter speed of 1/1000 of a second, and a maximum ISO of 400.
The focussing patch is not as well defined as those in a Leica (however mine still has very obvious contrast so is very easy to focus).
The selenium light meter will eventually become inaccurate and stop working.
Some might find the curved light meter hard to read (but I think it’s incredibly intuitive).
It doesn’t have a built-in (hot or) cold shoe (but the Canon 7S and 7Sz do).
Sadly – and I think most regrettably – it doesn’t have 28mm frame lines (though you could just approximate using the entire viewfinder).
Do these limitations inhibit my photography with it? Absolutely not.
Now we’ve gotten the ‘bad’ stuff out the way, let’s talk about the cool stuff:
The Canon 7 has a robust, angular metal body.
It loads film like a normal camera!
It features a handy bottom-plate lock so you can’t accidentally open the back.
The shutter curtain is titanium, not cloth, and so although they are often wrinkly, won’t get pinhole damage and light leaks on your film.
The shutter button (like my Canon F1) has a dial that can be turned to ‘lock’ (marked with a red dot) so you don’t take accidentally photos in your bag/pocket.
The light meter has a very handy dual mode; one for normal lighting (black dot) and one for low lighting (orange dot) and stretches from f0.95 to f22. This is selected using a small rotating switch on the back.
The light meter is selenium so doesn’t need batteries, making the Canon 7 is entirely mechanical.
Its distinctive design is a conversation starter – I get asked so often about what camera I’m using which is fun, and gets people chatting.
The viewfinder has a magnification of 0.80x and an effective base length (EBL) of 47mm (the Leica M5 has an EBL of 49.3mm) so its focussing is very sharp. This also means you can shoot with both eyes open, more-or-less!
Unlike the Canon P, you can select your frame lines using a handy dial; 35mm, 50mm, 85/100mm and 135mm, leaving the viewfinder uncluttered.





Conclusion
I love this camera and lens combo – they’re an underrated banger of a duo. It really is the poor man’s Leica; I use it in exactly the same way. I’ve taken several-many of my favourite street shots since I bought it, and can’t wait to keep using it for the foreseeable. So if you’re thinking of buying a camera with a coveted red dot, maybe don’t. Hop on eBay, type in “Canon 7 rangefinder” and see what grabs you. I promise you won’t be disappointed, and neither will your wallet.
Photographs made with the camera © Christopher Grainger. Copyright remains with the photographer.
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