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One of the most famous pictures from the 20th century depicts a naked young girl, her arms extended, her expression distorted in terror, her skin blistered and raw. She appears fleeing towards the photographer as fleeing an airstrike in the conflict. Beside her, other children also run out of the destroyed village in the region, against a background of thick fumes and the presence of soldiers.

The Global Influence of a Seminal Image

Within hours the release in June 1972, this photograph—formally named The Terror of War—became a traditional sensation. Seen and analyzed by millions, it's generally attributed for motivating public opinion critical of the conflict in Vietnam. A prominent critic subsequently remarked that this horrifically indelible image of the child the subject suffering probably was more effective to heighten global outrage regarding the hostilities than lengthy broadcasts of shown barbarities. A renowned British documentarian who reported on the conflict labeled it the ultimate photo of what would later be called “The Television War”. Another experienced combat photographer stated how the picture stands as simply put, a pivotal photographs ever made, especially of the Vietnam war.

The Long-Standing Credit Followed by a Modern Assertion

For half a century, the photograph was attributed to the work of Huynh Cong “Nick” Út, a young local photojournalist working for the Associated Press during the war. But a disputed recent investigation released by a streaming service contends that the well-known photograph—often hailed to be the pinnacle of photojournalism—may have been captured by someone else at the location in Trảng Bàng.

According to the investigation, "Napalm Girl" was in fact taken by an independent photographer, who provided his photos to the organization. The claim, and its subsequent research, stems from a former editor a former photo editor, who alleges that a influential photo chief ordered the staff to reassign the photo's byline from the stringer to Nick Út, the one employed photographer there at the time.

The Investigation to find the Truth

Robinson, now in his 80s, contacted one of the journalists in 2022, requesting assistance to identify the unknown stringer. He expressed that, should he still be alive, he wanted to extend an acknowledgment. The journalist considered the independent photojournalists he knew—comparing them to the stringers of today, who, like independent journalists in that era, are frequently ignored. Their work is frequently doubted, and they operate in far tougher situations. They are not insured, they don’t have pensions, little backing, they frequently lack adequate tools, making them extremely at risk as they capture images within their homeland.

The investigator asked: How would it feel for the person who took this iconic picture, if indeed it wasn't Nick Út?” As an image-maker, he imagined, it could be extraordinarily painful. As a follower of photojournalism, particularly the celebrated documentation of Vietnam, it could prove earth-shattering, perhaps legacy-altering. The respected legacy of the photograph within the community was so strong that the filmmaker with a background left during the war felt unsure to engage with the film. He said, I was unwilling to unsettle the accepted account that credited Nick the image. I also feared to disturb the status quo within a population that consistently admired this accomplishment.”

The Inquiry Progresses

However the two the investigator and the creator felt: it was necessary posing the inquiry. As members of the press are to hold everybody else responsible,” said one, it is essential that we are willing to address tough issues of ourselves.”

The investigation tracks the journalists in their pursuit of their own investigation, from discussions with witnesses, to call-outs in today's Saigon, to examining footage from related materials captured during the incident. Their efforts eventually yield an identity: Nguyễn Thành Nghệ, working for NBC that day who occasionally sold photographs to international news outlets as a freelancer. As shown, an emotional Nghệ, now also in his 80s based in California, attests that he sold the image to the AP for a small fee and a copy, but was plagued by the lack of credit for years.

This Reaction and Ongoing Scrutiny

Nghệ appears in the film, thoughtful and thoughtful, yet his account proved controversial in the community of journalism. {Days before|Shortly prior to