PARK CITY, Utah —  Saturday night in Park City saw the world premiere of “The Stringer,” which calls into question the origins of one of the most famous photographs ever taken. Directed by Bao Nguyen, the documentary claims that the photograph taken on June 8, 1972, of a naked 9-year-old girl named Phan Thi Kim Phuc as she fled a napalm attack on the village of Trảng Bàng in South Vietnam was not taken by Nick Ut, the Associated Press photographer to whom it is credited.

Officially titled “The Terror of War” but more commonly known as “Napalm Girl,” the photo won Ut a Pulitzer Prize and was the cornerstone of his career until he retired from the Associated Press in 2017. Ut was only 21 years old when the incident at Trảng Bàng occurred.

Instead, “The Stringer” alleges, the photo was actually taken by Nguyen Thanh Nghe, a driver for an NBC news crew present that day whose photos came into the AP‘s possession as a freelancer, also known as a stringer.

The origin of the claim in the film comes from Carl Robinson, an AP photo editor in Saigon on that day. In the film, Robinson claims that Horst Faas, the chief of photos in Saigon, instructed him to “make it Nick Ut” and for Robinson to incorrectly credit what would within a few hours become the photo known around the world.

The film’s team set out on a two-year investigation of their own, eventually leading them to Nguyen Thanh Nghe, who says in the film that he took the photo. Of a moment when he later met Ut but did not bring up the origins of the shot, the Vietnamese photographer says in the film, “I worked hard for it, but that guy got to have it all.”

On Saturday afternoon, ahead of the film’s premiere screening, director Nguyen and executive producer Gary Knight, a veteran photojournalist who appears onscreen in the film, sat for an interview in Park City about the documentary and its startling allegations.

“This story challenges my profession and established truth in my profession,” said Knight. “And so we owe it to our profession to be very diligent and to get this right. And the pushback from the profession we expected would be tough. Rightfully so.

“Bao is a very prominent Vietnamese American filmmaker who comes from the same community as the stringer and as Nick,” said Knight. “So we were all heavily invested in making sure that we were diligent, thoughtful and treated everybody with respect and tried to get this right. So we’re all stakeholders in the story.”

Ahead of the release of the film, the AP conducted its own investigation into the origins of the photo over six months, interviewing seven people who were witnesses to the events on the road at Trảng Bàng that day and in the AP’s Saigon bureau where the picture was developed and printed. None of those witnesses were interviewed on camera for the film. Without having seen the film, the AP report concludes, “In the absence of new, convincing evidence to the contrary, the AP has no reason to believe anyone other than Ut took the photo.”

The internal report also said that AP “would look fully into any questions around the photo, and, if the credit was indeed incorrect, would take appropriate remedial actions.”

Knight is also co-founder and CEO of the VII Foundation, a nonprofit journalism advocacy and education organization. Nguyen’s previous work includes the documentaries “The Greatest Night in Pop,” on the recording of the song “We Are the World,” and “Be Water,” a portrait of Bruce Lee, both of which also premiered at Sundance.

“The life that many refugees and immigrants have left behind when they’re coming to a place that’s strange and foreign, there’s this expectation that they have the same agency to tell their narratives and tell their stories, but it’s not the same,” said Nguyen. “This film is in many ways a reckoning of that assumption that, ‘OK, if Nghe had this truth for so long, why didn’t he say something?’

“But can you imagine coming to a new culture, a new place, just trying to take care of your family and going up to a system that he doesn’t understand and that he believes that he does not belong to?” said Nguyen. “Documentary films specifically have a responsibility to try to acknowledge all these misrepresentations and systems that have existed.”

According to the AP report, in a 2005 oral history for AP’s corporate archives Robinson made no mention of misidentifying the photo and gave no indication of uncertainty whether Ut took the photo. There is also no reference to Robinson’s allegations in his own book about his time in Vietnam, though in the film he expresses regret over this omission.

“This story doesn’t hinge on Carl,” said Knight. “We interviewed 55 people, 45 on camera, and did the forensic research, which has been tested. So we don’t rely on Carl’s story. That was just the beginning of the journey. And whether AP choose to talk about Carl as a disgruntled employee or not, it doesn’t make him a bad witness per se. A lot of whistleblowers are in the same situation. So we wouldn’t have made a film based solely on one man’s accusations. That’s not journalism.”

In a telephone interview on Saturday, James Hornstein, an attorney representing Ut (who has also not yet seen the film), said in reference to Robinson, “I think it is outrageous that the VII Foundation has provided a platform to a man who clearly has a vendetta that’s been simmering for more than 50 years.”

Kim Phuc, who does not remember the events of that day, said in a statement provided to The Times by Hornstein, “I have refused to participate in this outrageous and false attack on Nick Ut raised by Mr. Robinson over the past years. … I would never participate in the Gary Knight film because I know it is false.”

Among the most compelling arguments put forth in the film is a visual timeline created using all available photographic and film evidence to place Ut out of position when the “Terror of War” image would have been created, with Nghe in the correct spot.

“I stand by the research and the forensics,” said Knight. “I think Nghe is the only person who was in the right place to have taken that picture.”

The AP’s own report says it also created a visual timeline using available materials but the results “offer little evidence about the provenance of the photo.” Also, the images, “along with Ut’s strong body of work from the day, show a scenario in which Ut, running around the scene energetically, had ample opportunity to capture the image.”

While no one involved with the documentary is disputing the powerful truth of what is in the image itself, the assertion that the photo’s origins and authorship are up for debate has a potentially life-changing dimension.

“It’s quite upsetting to him personally and emotionally, as one could imagine,” Hornstein said of the impact on Ut. “This is perhaps the most important piece of work that he’s done in his life in terms of the acclaim that this photo has brought. And for him to be accused of lying about it, which is what this film does, is devastating.”

For Nguyen, the film comes down to finally telling a story that has up to now been unheard.

“For me personally, the film is about finding the stringer,” said Nguyen. “It’s uplifting Nghe, this 53-year-old burden that he had on his shoulders for most of his life. And as you see in the film too, the stories of many Vietnamese journalists and Vietnamese American journalists have been neglected for decades.

“Nick’s narrative had been well established through past interviews, and with very little editorial. It’s just presented as he’s always stated it,” said Nguyen. “And so it’s more about focusing on this other part of the story that’s been in the shadows for so long.”

Movies about irresponsible parenting in the great outdoors have become something of an arthouse subgenre over the past decade. Matt Ross’ Captain Fantastic, Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace, India Donaldson’s Good One and Philippe Lesage’s Who by Fire all feature children coming of age in the wilderness as their fathers mess up in one way or another. If there’s perhaps one takeaway from all of these films, it’s to be on guard the next time your dad asks you to go on a long hike or camping trip.

Unfortunately, such a warning was never issued to Roy (Woody Norman), the 13-year-old protagonist of French writer-director Vladimir de Fontenay’s latest feature, Sukkwan Island. Embarking with his father, Tom (Swann Arlaud), on an extended séjour to an isolated cabin somewhere in the Norwegian fjords, Roy soon finds himself facing various life or death scenarios while Tom gradually flies off the handle.

Adapted from David Vann’s 2010 novel, which won several awards in France, the film is a rugged two-hander about a son getting to know his estranged father while they attempt to survive through the long and relentless Nordic winter. As the two are confronted by snowstorms, hungry bears and other external threats, it becomes increasingly clear that the real threat is Tom, a troubled man broken by divorce and seeking to build a bond with a boy he doesn’t ever bother to understand.

Like De Fontenay’s debut feature Mobile Homes, which followed an impoverished family scraping by in upstate New York, Sukkwan Island has a powerful immersive quality that makes up for some of its dramatic shortcomings, especially dialogue that can feel either stilted or too on-the-nose.

Shot with stylized naturalism by Amine Berrada (Banel & Adama), the film plunges us into a breathtaking northern landscape that’s virtually untouched by man. Tom and Roy spend a lot of time trudging through heaping piles of snow or jumping into a lake that looks abominably cold. When they’re not doing other outdoor activities like cutting wood or hunting elk, they’re stuck together in an old cabin that could use some major repairs, including a new roof.

The two are doing this at the urging of Tom, a Frenchman who split with Roy’s mother (Tuppence Middleton) and hasn’t been in the picture for some time. He’s hoping the trip will become a rite of passage through which Roy learns both survival instincts and to appreciate the simple beauties of nature. At least for a few days or weeks, that seems to be the case. But then Roy begins to realize his father is selfish, unhinged and, to cite the above-listed movies, totally irresponsible — to the point that he puts them both in serious danger.

Working under what were clearly harsh conditions, De Fontenay achieves a real level of intimacy with his two performers, whose characters are constantly wavering between moments of affection and resentment. Arlaud (Anatomy of a Fall) portrays Tom as a lost soul with good intentions but no idea how to behave like a proper parent. And the excellent Norman (who starred alongside Joaquin Phoenix in C’mon C’mon) reveals how much Roy wants to love and respect his dad, all the while remaining uneasy around him.

Things inevitably come to a head as the winter grows darker and more hostile, forcing Roy and Tom to resort to extremes so they can survive — especially after their two-way radio is destroyed by the latter, who wants to cut them off entirely from civilization. By that point, it becomes difficult to believe that Tom could be so reckless as to risk their lives, making us wonder if he’s gone completely out of his mind. De Fontenay alludes to this earlier when Roy discovers his dad’s stash of anxiety meds, but it’s otherwise hard to imagine the man would take things so far just to prove that he has terrific survival skills.

Alas, the director tosses in a major, not-worth-spoiling twist at the very last minute to explain all the craziness we’ve been witnessing. The plot reversal does manage to justify how things got far so out of hand, though it also comes across as a major cop-out — so much so that several title cards are inserted at the end to make the finale go down more smoothly.

These kinds of twists, whether in the famous dream season of Dallas or nearly every movie made by M. Night Shyamalan, are, at their best, a chance for the viewer to rethink what they’ve been watching, to see the drama in a new light. In some ways De Fontenay achieves this, but in others he undermines his own film. That doesn’t necessarily take away from the better aspects of Sukkwan Island, especially the lived-in performances and you-are-there quality of the direction. But it makes for shaky ground to stand on, with the risk that everything Roy and Tom just went through ultimately loses its staying power.

Artist Chris Carlson lives in Denver. He is a Nuggets fan. He may not have been the most obvious choice to paint a mural in Los Angeles based on a Lakers legend.

“My relationship with the Lakers is complicated,” Carlson told The Times in an email interview. “Being from Denver and growing up as a Nuggets fan, I watched the Lakers knock us out of the playoffs every season during the [Carmelo Anthony] years.”

Carlson is, however, a huge admirer of Kobe Bryant, so he jumped at the chance to paint a Nike-commissioned mural highlighting Bryant and his Black Mamba persona beside the Venice Beach basketball courts.

“I am definitely a Kobe fan!” Carlson wrote. “His skills were unmatched and his work ethic was inspirational. A lot of his philosophies about working toward being a better athlete can be applied to becoming a better artist. Things like embracing discomfort and pushing past your perceived limits really resonated with me.”

Carlson and Indiana-based artist Nate Baranowski finished painting the larger-than-life mural this month. It shows Bryant with a fierce scowl on his face. A giant snake appears to burst through the painting and wrap itself around Bryant, with their heads ending up side by side. The top features Nike’s Swoosh logo and the slogan: “This isn’t the year of the snake. This is the year of the Mamba.”

Mike Asner, who runs the KobeMural.com website, posted a video of the mural on the site’s Instagram page this week and the post blew up, garnering 2 million views and 187,000 likes in three days.

“That’s not normal,” said Asner, who estimates a typical post featuring a Bryant mural gets between 150,000 and 300,000 views and 10,000 to 15,000 likes.

Asner said he thinks people are attracted to “the realism and 3D nature” of the mural.

“People went crazy over this one,” Asner said. “I’ve never seen people go this crazy over a mural.”

Here is more from The Times’ interview with Carlson. The questions and answers have been edited for length and clarity.

How did this project come about?

Nike contacted me about creating this mural in Venice Beach. They had an idea to incorporate a 3D illusion and trompe l’oeil effects into a Kobe mural they were planning, and since optical illusion murals are my specialty they reached out to me. I loved their concept and I was thrilled when they selected me for the project.

What inspired the design?

The design started with the black mamba (the snake). I wanted the snake to be wrapping around the portrait of Kobe in a way that shows the two are linked and forever connected. Having the mamba breaking through the wall helps to create a feeling of intensity and power that I really wanted to capture in the mural. It’s like Kobe and the mamba are challenging us to be the best versions of ourselves. The architectural elements in the corners are the Kobe logo. I think they help pull the viewers’ eyes into the middle of the mural.

How did people respond while you were working on it?

The reactions from people on the courts while we painted were amazing! As soon as people saw that it was a Kobe mural, the excitement started building. It was one of my favorite painting experiences because of all the encouragement we got from the public while we painted.

How does this project differ from your usual work?

This is my largest mural to date, so that brings some different challenges. But it also allows the artwork to have a bigger visual impact. I’m also not usually painting in such a famous location. It was an honor to paint a mural featuring an iconic person like Kobe Bryant in an iconic location like the Venice Beach basketball courts.