If you had told me back in 2020 that Sony’s FX3, FX6, and FX9 lineup would go down as one of the most legendary cinema camera releases of this era, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. We all knew they were good, but I don’t think any of us fully understood how great they actually were. Now it’s 2025, and the wild part is the prices haven’t dropped at all—if anything, they’ve gone up. You could blame material shortages, supply chain issues, or tariff wars, but none of that changes the fact that these cameras have refused to lose value, popularity, or relevance. They’re not outdated. They’re not being replaced. They’re still dominating. That alone should be studied.

I’ve spent years shooting on RED—especially the DSMC2 lineup and the Komodo—and because of that, I feel like I’ve seen what truly high-end cinema cameras can do. So when the FX6 dropped, it immediately grabbed my attention. I knew there was something different about it, I just didn’t realize how ahead of its time it actually was. Looking back, the FX6 might be one of the most perfectly balanced cameras ever made. It’s the Swiss Army knife of cinema cameras. It has the features you need, delivers the image you want, handles almost any environment, and still manages to be lightweight and flexible. Even in 2025, most new cameras are still chasing the standard the FX6 set.

Now, I’ll be real—I wasn’t originally a big fan of the FX3. Not because of the image quality (it shares the same sensor as the FX6), but because of the price gap. It felt like if you were already that close to FX6 territory, you might as well spend a little more and get internal NDs, better body ergonomics, and those extra pro features. But over time, the FX3 proved me wrong. It carved out its own lane. It became the go-to camera for solo shooters, YouTubers, travel filmmakers, doc work—anyone who needed compact cinema power without the weight. Sony kept updating it, the community embraced it, and slowly it went from “almost an FX6” to “the perfect grab-and-go cinema camera.” At this point, I’ve got nothing but respect for it.

Then there’s the FX9. And this one is interesting. It’s not unpopular—far from it. Almost everybody has used one, rented one, or owned one at some point. The image is beautiful, the full-frame look is cinematic, the color science is clean, and it brings true broadcast-level features. But it’s heavy. Really heavy. And that weight changes everything. I’ve seen the same cycle again and again: people buy the FX9, fall in love with the image, get tired of the weight, sell it or shelf it, miss the image, and eventually come back. It’s that “I love you, but you’re exhausting” kind of camera. You can try to move on, but it always pulls you back.

When I look at this trio—FX3, FX6, FX9—it’s clear Sony didn’t just release three cameras. They built a system that covered almost every type of shooter. The FX3 took care of agile creators. The FX6 became the industry workhorse. The FX9 powered high-end and broadcast productions. Instead of dividing the market, Sony united it. Three bodies, same DNA, same image quality—each one solving a different need. And because of that, they’ve aged better than almost any camera line I’ve ever seen.

It’s 2025, and companies are still trying to catch up to what Sony did years ago. Prices haven’t dropped. Demand hasn’t faded. These cameras didn’t just make an impact—they defined an era. And honestly? I don’t know when we’ll see another lineup this timeless again.

  Christopher Smith