I'm sad to see celluloid go, there's no doubt. But, you know

Hearken, O seekers of wisdom, and listen to the reflection of Martin Scorsese, a guardian of the cinematic arts, who laments the passing of celluloid, that fragile medium which once captured the dreams and visions of humankind. “I’m sad to see celluloid go, there’s no doubt,” he says, and in this sorrow lies a meditation on the transience of technology, art, and memory. The images that once danced upon nitrate and acetate were not merely entertainment; they were vessels of human imagination, of emotion, and of cultural memory, preserving the fleeting light of a moment for generations to come.

Yet Scorsese reminds us that all things evolve. The nitrate, that earliest incarnation of cinematic wonder, vanished in 1971. Its brilliance and richness, now largely forgotten, once carried the silent voices of actors and the tender shadows of early directors. He reflects on the difference between a nitrate print and an acetate print, noting that the subtleties, the textures, the very soul of the image, were diminished in the latter. And yet, life moves forward; the acetate remains, imperfect but present, and now, digital technology dominates the medium.

This lament is not merely about films, but about the ephemeral nature of human endeavor. Every generation faces the loss of what was once sacred, whether it be art, memory, or the tools of creation. Scorsese’s words call to mind the scrolls of Alexandria, consumed by fire, whose wisdom vanished from sight, leaving only echoes and fragments. Like the nitrate film, these treasures were irreplaceable, their subtleties and nuances lost, reminding us that preservation is a sacred task, fraught with both triumph and inevitable limitation.

Consider the work of Georges Méliès, who in the early 20th century captured wondrous illusions on nitrate film. Many of his creations were lost, degraded, or destroyed, and we now glimpse them only through painstaking restorations or surviving fragments. Yet in those remnants, one feels the magic and innovation of a time when the medium itself was alive, organic, and unpredictable. Scorsese mourns that same vitality, that same tactile life, as we move from physical celluloid to digital precision, which, though convenient, lacks the grain, warmth, and imperfection that made each frame a living artifact.

But within this lament is also a meditation on adaptation and continuity. Though nitrate is gone, and acetate may fade, and digital may supplant all, the essence of creativity endures. Scorsese’s recognition that “maybe now it’s digital” is not defeatism but acceptance: the tools may change, but the pursuit of storytelling, emotion, and beauty persists. The human impulse to record, to express, to move hearts, transcends the medium.

From this reflection springs a lesson for all creators and preservers of culture. Value what you inherit, whether it is fragile or enduring. Understand that each medium carries both beauty and limitation, and that the work of preservation, of careful observation, and of mindful transition is sacred. Whether in film, literature, music, or memory, honor the richness of the past even as you embrace the tools of the future.

Practical wisdom flows from this meditation. Engage deeply with the artifacts of your time, whether they are films, books, or traditions. Learn from their texture, their imperfection, and their humanity. Preserve what you can, teach what you know, and recognize that the march of technology does not erase the essence of creation—it transforms it. Let your work, like nitrate film once did, resonate with life, imperfection, and emotion, even if its form eventually shifts.

Thus, let Scorsese’s reflection echo through the generations: mourning what is lost is not despair, but remembrance, a call to honor and to adapt. In the passage from nitrate to acetate to digital, we see the eternal dance of creation and preservation, loss and renewal. To witness, to remember, and to continue creating in whatever form is offered is to embrace the enduring spirit of human artistry, ensuring that the light of imagination continues to shine, however it may be captured.