🔗 Share this article

Among some of the most famous photographs from the twentieth century depicts a naked young girl, her arms extended, her expression twisted in pain, her body scorched and peeling. She can be seen running towards the camera as fleeing a bombing in South Vietnam. To her side, youngsters are fleeing from the destroyed hamlet of Trảng Bàng, with a backdrop featuring dark smoke and troops.

This Worldwide Influence of a Powerful Photograph

Shortly after its release during the Vietnam War, this picture—formally called "Napalm Girl"—evolved into a pre-digital sensation. Seen and analyzed by millions, it's broadly attributed with energizing public opinion critical of the conflict during that era. An influential author afterwards observed how this profoundly unforgettable picture featuring nine-year-old the subject in agony likely was more effective to heighten popular disgust against the war compared to a hundred hours of broadcast atrocities. A legendary British documentarian who covered the fighting described it the most powerful photograph from what would later be called the media war. A different experienced war journalist stated that the picture stands as simply put, one of the most important photos ever made, especially of the Vietnam war.

A Long-Held Attribution Followed by a New Assertion

For over five decades, the image was credited to the work of Huynh Cong “Nick” Út, a then-21-year-old local photojournalist employed by an international outlet in Saigon. Yet a disputed new investigation released by a streaming service claims which states the well-known photograph—widely regarded to be the pinnacle of war journalism—might have been taken by another person present that day in the village.

As claimed by the film, the iconic image was in fact photographed by an independent photographer, who provided the images to the organization. The claim, along with the documentary's following research, originates with a former editor Carl Robinson, who states that a dominant photo chief instructed him to change the photograph's attribution from the original photographer to Út, the only agency photographer there during the incident.

This Quest to find Answers

The source, now in his 80s, contacted one of the journalists a few years ago, seeking help to identify the unnamed photographer. He expressed that, if he could be found, he hoped to give an apology. The filmmaker thought of the freelance stringers he knew—likening them to current independents, just as local photographers at the time, are frequently ignored. Their contributions is frequently challenged, and they function in far tougher circumstances. They have no safety net, no retirement plans, minimal assistance, they often don’t have adequate tools, and they are incredibly vulnerable when documenting in their own communities.

The filmmaker pondered: How would it feel to be the individual who took this iconic picture, if indeed Nick Út didn’t take it?” As a photographer, he speculated, it would be profoundly difficult. As an observer of war photography, especially the vaunted documentation of Vietnam, it could prove groundbreaking, perhaps career-damaging. The respected history of "Napalm Girl" within the community was so strong that the filmmaker who had family fled during the war was reluctant to engage with the investigation. He expressed, “I didn’t want to unsettle the established story that Nick had taken the image. And I didn’t want to disrupt the status quo within a population that consistently admired this accomplishment.”

This Search Develops

But both the journalist and the creator agreed: it was necessary posing the inquiry. “If journalists are going to keep the world in the world,” remarked the investigator, it is essential that we can ask difficult questions within our profession.”

The documentary follows the investigators in their pursuit of their research, including testimonies from observers, to requests in modern Saigon, to examining footage from additional films recorded at the time. Their search lead to a name: a driver, employed by NBC that day who sometimes sold photographs to foreign agencies as a freelancer. As shown, a moved Nghệ, currently advanced in age residing in California, states that he sold the famous picture to the AP for a small fee and a copy, but was haunted without recognition for decades.

This Backlash Followed by Additional Investigation

He is portrayed in the film, reserved and calm, however, his claim proved incendiary in the community of journalism. {Days before|Shortly prior to