A photograph so seared into the collective psyche that it's hard to imagine a different image, let alone its actual creator. Napalm Girl, captured in 1972 during the Vietnam War, is often credited to Huynh Cong "Nick" Út, a South Vietnamese photojournalist working for the Associated Press in Saigon. However, a new documentary on Netflix challenges this narrative, suggesting that the iconic photograph was taken by a different man, Nguyễn Thành Nghệ, a freelancer who sold his photos to the AP.
The investigation behind The Stringer, directed by Bao Nguyen and narrated by Gary Knight, follows a trail of clues, from eyewitness accounts to archival research. Their findings eventually lead them to Nghệ, a 79-year-old driver for NBC that day who occasionally sold photographs to international news outlets as a freelancer. In the film, an emotional Nghệ recounts selling the photograph to the AP for $20 and a print, only to be haunted by the lack of credit for decades.
However, not everyone is convinced. The Associated Press (AP) has disputed the documentary's findings, describing Robinson, the man who first came forward with information about the true photographer, as a "disgruntled" former employee. The AP has also stood by Út's credit, citing his Pulitzer Prize win and international acclaim.
World Press Photo, which awarded Napalm Girl the 1973 Photo of the Year award, released its own investigation concluding that Nghệ was better positioned to take the photo than Út. While the organization could not confirm the authorship, they acknowledged that the photograph's authenticity remains unquestioned.
The Stringer is more than just a re-examination of historical events; it's an exploration of power structures in journalism and the often-overlooked role of stringers. Knight notes that these freelancers work under difficult circumstances, without support or insurance, and are vulnerable to criticism.
Ultimately, the film posits that journalists should not shy away from asking tough questions, even when they challenge established narratives. As Nguyen says, "If journalists are going to hold everybody else in the world to account, we have to be able to ask difficult questions of ourselves." The Stringer may not provide definitive proof of Nghệ's authorship, but it does offer a crucial reappraisal of history and a reminder that truth is often complex and multifaceted.
The investigation behind The Stringer, directed by Bao Nguyen and narrated by Gary Knight, follows a trail of clues, from eyewitness accounts to archival research. Their findings eventually lead them to Nghệ, a 79-year-old driver for NBC that day who occasionally sold photographs to international news outlets as a freelancer. In the film, an emotional Nghệ recounts selling the photograph to the AP for $20 and a print, only to be haunted by the lack of credit for decades.
However, not everyone is convinced. The Associated Press (AP) has disputed the documentary's findings, describing Robinson, the man who first came forward with information about the true photographer, as a "disgruntled" former employee. The AP has also stood by Út's credit, citing his Pulitzer Prize win and international acclaim.
World Press Photo, which awarded Napalm Girl the 1973 Photo of the Year award, released its own investigation concluding that Nghệ was better positioned to take the photo than Út. While the organization could not confirm the authorship, they acknowledged that the photograph's authenticity remains unquestioned.
The Stringer is more than just a re-examination of historical events; it's an exploration of power structures in journalism and the often-overlooked role of stringers. Knight notes that these freelancers work under difficult circumstances, without support or insurance, and are vulnerable to criticism.
Ultimately, the film posits that journalists should not shy away from asking tough questions, even when they challenge established narratives. As Nguyen says, "If journalists are going to hold everybody else in the world to account, we have to be able to ask difficult questions of ourselves." The Stringer may not provide definitive proof of Nghệ's authorship, but it does offer a crucial reappraisal of history and a reminder that truth is often complex and multifaceted.