The Olympus EP-1's stylish retro design has some drawbacks including no built-in flash or optical viewfinder.

Someday somebody's going to create a compact digital camera that's capable of meeting the needs of pro photographers and when that happens, that somebody—or, more accurately, that company—is going to get very, very rich. How do I know this? It's not rocket science if you look at what's already come down the pike.

Take the new Olympus EP-1, a beautifully designed, very capable compact digital camera that's already one of the most buzzed about models of the year. Though it had been out for over a month at the time of this writing—late July—it was sold out everywhere. A photographer friend of mine when hearing I was able to secure a coveted test sample of the EP-1, wanted to know what I thought of the camera. Since it had just arrived that morning, I couldn't tell him much.

"Looks nice," I said.

I wish I could've shared more because the next time I heard from him he had already purchased the last EP-1. But even if I had mentioned some of the issues I later experienced with the camera—the ridiculously slow autofocus, the image noise—I doubt I would've swayed him. When you touch and hold the retro-style EP-1 with its Mad Men-era stainless steel body, snazzy detachable lenses, and solid overall balance, you're quickly smitten.

In fact, that first day the EP-1 came in, I couldn't take my eyes off it. This is saying a lot considering that my office is usually filled with photo and consumer electronics gear of all shapes and sizes. While I'm admittedly a bit jaded when it comes to products, the EP-1 kept cooing at me from its place atop the printer: "Take me out, Dan. Take me out and shoot with me. Shoot with me forever…."

Along with its attractive looks, the EP-1's feature-set is also enticing: 12.3-megapixel imaging sensor that's just a couple notches smaller than what's in a DSLR; HD video with built-in stereo mic; the ability to use interchangeable lenses and adjust focus and aperture while shooting video; rugged portability.

On paper and in terms of looks, there's a lot to like with the EP-1 and I expect Olympus will sell a boatload of these cameras which, under the right conditions, can capture fabulous images.

As a tool for professional photographers, however, I'm afraid that the EP-1, like many compact "pro" cameras that have come before it, misses the mark.


BODY & SOUL

I love the way the EP-1 looks and feels. I'm not guaranteeing you will too—some people don't go for throwbacks—but if you happen to find yourself in a camera store and haven't yet played with the EP-1, go pick it up. You'll probably find it's hard to put down.

In Europe, Olympus has played up the connection between the EP-1 and its now defunct PEN series of film cameras. In fact, you may have seen it referred to as the EP-1 PEN in overseas blogs and the new model has a clear lineage from that pioneering camera from the late Fifties and Sixties. (Incidentally, the designer of the original PEN, Yoshihisa Maitani, passed away at the age of 76 a month after the EP-1 launched.)

In my review last month of another compact camera with a large imaging sensor, the Sigma DP2, I complained that the DP2 wasn't truly a "pocket" camera because of its extending, fixed focal-length lens. The same is true of the larger-sized EP-1; when I attached the 14-42mm f/3.5-5.6 Micro Four Thirds interchangeable lens, the camera barely fit into a large coat pocket. The 14-42mm lens (which converts to a 28-84mm focal length because of the Micro Four Thirds chips' 2x magnification factor) uses an odd but effective locking system that partially collapses the lens when you're not shooting with it.