Bao Nguyen’s mesmerising documentary follows a photojournalist in his search for the truth about the authorship of one of history’s most formative war photos.
The Story of Bao Nguyen’s intense documentary is so complex and compelling that the most unbelievable aspect of it might be that it stayed in the dark for so long. For more than 50 years, the case of misattributed authorship unraveled by the Vietnamese-American director in his third work at Sundance was only known to a handful of people. One of them is a Pulitzer Price winning photographer renowned for one of the most shocking and influential depictions of war. Another one is the titular character, a freelance photographer whose name was erased both from the print credit of the image in question and the records of world history. Finally, there is the former photo editor at AP’s Saigon office during the time of the Vietnam War who by order from his superior did the fateful miss-assignment of the photograph.
This iconic image is widely known as “Napalm Girl” – officially it is titled “The Terror of War” – and shows 9-year-old Phan Thi Kim Phuc, crying and naked, heavily burned from a Napalm attack by misdirected US planes. The moment deeply embedded in collective memory as well as countless allocations of the most influential press photos ever made is the moment she runs with outstretched arms towards the camera. But who was really behind that camera? Nguyen tackles this question with a focus on consistency, backed-up facts an first-hand accounts. The events are set off by an email to photojournalist Gary Knight from 80-year-old Carl Robinson. Knight works for the French-based VII Foundation concerned with press freedom. Robinson is the mentioned former photo editor, and he is visibly haunted by his passive complicity.
Why did Robinson not voice his concerns back then, as his imposing AP boss Horst Faas told him to credit “Napalm Girl” not to the stringer, but to 21-year-old AP staff photographer Nick Út? Robinson explains to Knight that he was simply afraid he would lose his job. The answer is as depressingly pragmatic as it is relatable, especially to anyone who has ever worked under subordinate conditions where one wrong move can get you fired. The search Robinson, his wife Kim-Dung Robinson, Knight as well as a small team of journalists go on leads them to Nguyen Thành Nghe. He is the Vietnamese freelancer who allegedly actually took the photo. It earned him a print copy and 20 Dollars from AP. Út went on to win a Pulitzer for “Napalm Girl”. Knight still depicts Út in a relatively sympathetic light, pointing out that Út did not plan for any of this to happen.
Despite this, footage of Út basking in his fame and embellishing the story of him taking the photo with questionable heroics, speaks for itself. So does the fact that Út sued Nguyen and the documentary team, apparently determined to suppress their allegations. The first time the story seemed about to come out years ago, Nghe suffered a stroke. Because of this, the investigation didn’t continue. Now, such an intervention is unlikely to happen. Nguyen’s argument is strong, relying on historical documents, believable witnesses and even a computer generated model of the moment the photo was taken. They all support the claim that the image was shot by Nghe. His encounter with Robinson is a deeply touching moment, the culmination of the strong emotional foundation of the story. This story marks one of the fascinating occasions when one historic event evolves into another. The devastating image now acquired further implications on a different level.
AP released a statement ahead of the The Stringer’s Sundance premiere, disputing the allegations and disclosing their own painstaking investigation. It will be up to future research into this challenging case to determine which narrative is true. There is a chance one might never know for sure. All the same, Nguyen’s film is a gripping account of the historic erasure of the essential contributions by people from the Global South as well as people in underprivileged economic situations and unstable work positions. It tells about the transformative power of media while being itself an example of this transformative power. Finally, it is a hopeful indicator that the truth in journalism will prevail – and a bitter reminder that sometimes it can take a lifetime for this to happen.
- OT: The Stringer
- Director: Bao Nguyen
- Screenplay: Bao Nguyen
- Year: 2024
- Distribution | Production © THE VII FOUNDATION
