Synopsis: A courageous whistleblower steps forward with a shocking admission, setting off a gripping two-year investigation into five decades of buried secrets behind one of the Vietnam War's most iconic photographs. Acclaimed war photographer Gary Knight and journalists Fiona Turner, Terri Lichstein, and Lê Vân embark on a relentless search to locate and seek justice for a man known only as "the stringer."

Review: You know a film is explosive when an audience member attempts a coup d'état during the Q&A following the screening. More on that later.

"The Stringer" serves two purposes. The first is to confirm or squash the assertion that Nick Ut did not take the Pulitzer Prize-winning photo of a naked young Vietnamese girl who was severely burned in napalm attack in Trảng Bàng. That's the main selling point.

The bulk of the film, however, is dedicated to the second: to give a voice to the voiceless. A bid to return the narrative surrounding the photo to those it belongs to.

The story begins with Carl Robinson, a former Associated Press photo editor in Saigon, who, after years of silence, claims that it was an unknown stringer who took the photo, not Ut. Robinson claims that Horst Faas, the bureau's chief of photos, demanded that Ut be given credit, rather than the freelance photographer who took the photo.

Why would Faas favor Ut? This isn't explicitly spelled out, but Ut was employed by the Associated Press. Why would Ut take credit for a photo he didn't take? Director Bao Nguyen is never given the chance to ask that question. Ut, as well as the Associated Press, refused to take part in the documentary. Faas died in 2012.

So, "The Stringer" plays out like an opening argument without a rebuttal. How effective is it? I suppose that is for you to decide.

There was the opportunity to make "The Stringer" feel like a mystery thriller that focused on the process of untangling history. There are fragments of that movie scatter throughout the first half. However, Nguyen's decision to devote a large amount of its running time to exploring the impact on the life of the freelance journalist who was not given credit effectively shows his hand.

There is never really any question that the film is built on the idea that Ut never took the photo. The mystery, at least as it is presented here, is about what became of the uncredited photographer. If you are unable to entertain the idea that Ut didn't take the photo, you'll find the bulk of "The Stringer" to be superfluous.

Maybe that is how the not-so-polite gentleman who tried to take over the Q&A felt. He claimed, and it was confirmed by the filmmakers, that he had been there when the photo was taken. And despite his confession that he wasn't aware of who took the photo, he was bound to the idea that it is Ut's picture.

Unfortunately, he may have missed or dismissed that the film was also about the marginalization of the powerless. He certainly did not think that his attempt to discredit the filmmakers would be taken by the audience as an act to silence Nguyen. It was.

And he probably did not think that his continuous chattering with his friend and outbursts at the filmmakers as the Q&A continued was rude. It was.

It's interesting that the film does try to push the blame almost entirely on Faas. More time could have been spent dissecting Ut's version of events. There appear to be inconsistencies. Truthfully, I want to see a rebuttal to "The Stringer." The attempt at gottcha journalism during the Q&A wasn't effective. Quite the opposite. Honestly, with Faas dead, I don't know that the Associated Press has a response. The onus is on Ut. That's a heavy burden.