While in hiding after her sixth assassination attempt, activist Juma Xipaya received a call asking if she would be the subject of a documentary. The first female chief of the Middle Xingu region in the Brazilian Amazon, Xipaya was well known in Brazil for her passionate efforts to protect her indigenous community from the impacts of deforestation, illegal gold mining, and, in particular, the catastrophic environmental consequences of the $11 billion Belo Monte hydroelectric project—a hugely ambitious and destructive undertaking that has impacted livelihoods, fisheries, ecosystems, and biodiversity, and legal proceedings over it are still ongoing.
Thirty-four-year-old Xipaya's open resistance and exposure of corruption surrounding the dam's construction led to threats on her life. The latest attempt involved poisoning her through a food delivery company, which left her on a ventilator with 70 percent organ failure. She was on the brink of death when, she says, she had a dream in which she was given a choice: take the easy path of death or the difficult path of rebirth. Being a fighter, she chose that path. A week later, she was released from the hospital.
Leonardo DiCaprio called the activist one of the most incredible people he's ever met — Lalo de Almeida/Folhapress, FSP
Like many activists representing indigenous communities, she walked a fine line between defending the interests and traditions of her people and avoiding being perceived as an obstacle to economic progress, which benefits Brazil as a whole. This paradox became apparent when President Lula da Silva regained power in 2023 and brought Shipaia into the government.
Richard Ladkani, a filmmaker behind powerful environmental documentaries like "The Ivory Game" (about poaching) and "Sea of Shadows" (about marine activists), was the man who called her. It was 2019, when Brazil was still under the brutal rule of Jair Bolsonaro, and the destruction of the Amazon was at its peak – during his presidency, a swath of rainforest the size of Belgium was burned, and thousands of illegal gold mines flourished, polluting the forest, contaminating the river with mercury (mercury is used to bind gold), and bringing crime and destruction to previously pristine areas.
Filmmaker Richard Ladkani in the Brazilian Amazon – Photo courtesy of Malaika Pictures.
«All summer, we’d been seeing these dramatic, apocalyptic images,« Ladhani says. »And then I was posing for photos at the Sea of Shadows premiere with [executive producers] Leo DiCaprio and Jane Goodall, when Leo leaned over and whispered, „So, Richard, what’s next?“»
«"And I said, 'We have to do something about the Amazon.'".
«For a long time I was perceived as a soldier, as a one-man army.».
DiCaprio joined the project as a producer, and Goodall as an ambassador. Ladkani knew he needed to find a strong central figure who would provide a human and emotional context, someone who would become the voice of the Amazon. He compiled a list of possible candidates until Brazilian journalist Eliane Brum told him, "Don't make a decision until you talk to Juma Xipaya—when she speaks, the world listens. She can silence an entire room with her energy.".
Now, in a small restaurant in New York, Xipaya is in no mood to talk. It's February, snowing, and Ladkani, Xipaya, and her husband, Hugo Loss, have come to present the documentary "Yanuni," six years in the making, at a screening attended by UN officials and Brazilian diplomats. Recent news about Trump's activities in Venezuela has shaken them all, and Juma, in particular, has had a negative experience with American food, which doesn't suit her. At first, she's a little reserved, but soon, with the help of a translator, she opens up and explains to me what it means to be a cacique (leader) and how she was chosen.
Loss and Xipaya met when her village was attacked by illegal gold miners in 2020 – Lalo de Almeida
«"I never chose to be a cacique," she says, "but I couldn't remain silent in the face of the exploitation of my people—there was violence, women were harassed, and raped." She's referring to the collateral damage that inevitably comes with the recruitment of thousands of workers to build the dam. "Typically, the role of cacique is given to the oldest man in the community—my father, my uncles, and my brother were caciques, but the elders knew they could trust me and would never negotiate our rights with corporations or politicians, never compromise. For a long time, I was perceived as a soldier, a one-man army. I accepted this position for two years with the goal of strengthening our territories and establishing sovereignty for our people.".
Xipaya was born in 1991 and, by her own account, spent an idyllic childhood in Túcume, a small indigenous community along the Iriri River, about 250 miles west of Altamira. They lived in wooden houses, subsisting on fruits and nuts from the forest and fish from the river, and in 2006, she moved to Altamira to pursue an education. But threats began to loom over her community: lands were opened up to mining and agriculture, and in 2011, a permit was issued to build the Belo Monte Dam, damming part of the Xingu River, one of the Amazon's most biodiverse areas.
At just 21 years old, Xipaya spoke out against the dam's construction at a public hearing, but despite lawsuits, protests from indigenous people, and a significant portion of society, construction proceeded. Xipaya attended law school in Altamira and studied plans proposed by Norte Energia, the company that built Belo Monte, which helped expose corruption within the company. In 2015, at the age of 24, she became cacique, the first female leader of her people. Other communities were bribed by Norte Energia, which donated stoves, refrigerators, and televisions.
Aerial view of the Belo Monte hydroelectric dam in Altamira – CARLOS FABAL
In November 2019, she led a protest of angry Brazilian landowners and farmers who disrupted the international conference "Amazon: Center of the World" in Altamira. But by then, she had already become a target, and by the time Ladkani called her, she had survived six attempts on her life, including a hit-and-run on her car with her children in the backseat and a threat to kidnap her son. She went into hiding for a year and refused to talk to anyone.
«"She thought the only way to survive was to stop talking, because when I spoke, people wanted to kill me," Ladkani says. But eventually, she agreed to answer his call, and from that moment, he says, he knew he'd found the voice for his film. "Her poetry is what stands out—the way she can describe emotions and feelings and put things into context—I felt it was unique. And when she told me the story of how she almost died from poisoning, I burst into tears. I told her I wanted her to be the voice in the film and also offered her a producing role. Because I knew nothing about Indigenous life, and I needed her to show me the way.".
Things were challenging from the start. Xipaya was unhappy with the use of a translator for security reasons; she couldn't trust anyone. So Ladkani, an Austrian by birth, began intensively studying Portuguese and became fluent within six months. "This was a key moment to show that I was serious and that I was sensitive to her concerns," he tells me.
Juma Shipata and Leonardo DiCaprio at the premiere of "Yanuni" during the 2025 Tribeca Film Festival in New York City – John Nascione/Getty Images for Tribeca Film Festival
The film's security budget was enormous, requiring the best, most experienced people: safe houses, reliable drivers. And these arrangements were to remain in place for another year after filming—for a total of seven years. "Leo played a crucial role here because he raised the first third of the budget, and that encouraged other philanthropists to pitch in.".
Filming began in 2020. There was no script, and Ladkani didn't know what would come of it; he simply needed to tell the story of the plundering of the Amazon from Xipaya's perspective.
It ended up being a turbulent adventure: it began with Xipaya leading protests against Bolsonaro, but after Lula's election in 2023, he created the Ministry of Indigenous Rights, with Xipaya as Secretary of State, and implemented a series of forest-protection bills, as well as hiring lawyers, biologists, and engineers to combat the destruction of the Amazon.
Xipaya's husband, Hugo Loss, is an experienced pilot who flies a mission to destroy illegal mining equipment for Ibama, the Brazilian government's law enforcement agency. — Photo courtesy of Malaika Pictures.
The film chronicles her move from her village to Brasilia, where she settled with her son; her reunion with her husband, Hugo Loss, a helicopter pilot working for Ibama (the Brazilian Institute of Renewable and Natural Resources), an elite force that raids illegal mines; and the birth of their first child, Yanouni.
It was a long and captivating journey, an improvisation that resulted in thousands of hours of filming. "I simply had to embrace the unpredictability. The power of any documentary lies in the unexpected, because the unexpected twist is the most valuable element of any film structure.".
«"And this has happened many times. I chose a woman to be the voice of the Amazons, and two years later, she became the second most powerful woman in the Ministry of Indigenous Affairs—I still get goosebumps from the incredible luck. That was the first plot twist, and then Hugo, a charismatic elite soldier, entered her life, leading me to the front lines of the Amazonian resistance, and then Juma got pregnant and gave birth to Yanouni. Damn it. If I had written this as a screenplay, everyone would have thrown it out as a complete fabrication.".
«"Your risk of death is 50 percent.".
Leonardo DiCaprio served as a producer on the film (instead of his usual role as executive producer), meaning he was much more involved. "He not only provided the funding, but he also provided me with significant support throughout production," says Ladkani. In November 2021, DiCaprio attended Cop 26 in Glasgow, where he met Xipaya for the first time. "That meeting was incredible—Leo posted a photo of them together and said she was one of the most incredible people he'd ever met." The resulting attention helped protect Xipaya, as a public image is, to some extent, a guarantee. "Here she is next to DiCaprio, so she's not just a voiceless indigenous woman from some Amazon.".
There were many technical difficulties. For safety reasons, Ladkani couldn't film the usual way, with lighting and a camera crew. "I had a second cameraman, a brilliant guy from Brazil named Fabio Nascimento, and I took him with me when I could—but that was only 30 percent of the time. The rest, I filmed alone. I reduced the amount of equipment and essentially shot the film with a DSLR, like a still camera, so I looked like a tourist. To an outsider, I was just a white gringo taking pictures." Xipaya had a microphone hidden under his shirt. If anyone ever tried to stop Ladkani, he claimed to be a YouTuber.
«"Security required me to film the film incognito, and that's the strength of it, because I blended in so well with the family that they stopped noticing me," Ladkani says.
An aerial photograph of an illegal gold mine in the Brazilian Amazon – courtesy of Malaika Pictures.
Hugo Loss's job was to protect indigenous communities and fly over the Amazon forests and rivers to identify illegal gold mines, dredgers, and excavators. His small team lands, arrests miners, and sets fire to any expensive equipment too bulky to confiscate. In the film, we see huge plumes of thick black smoke rising from the forest. Penalties for environmental crimes are minimal, but as Loss says, "It's not President Lula who should change these things; it's Congress, and changing the law is difficult. But destroying the equipment is a real deterrent because the machines are expensive, so it's a risky investment.".
Loss and Xipaya met in 2020, when her village was attacked by illegal gold miners. She was in Altamira, a two-day boat ride away. She posted a call for help on social media, and Loss, who was also in Altamira, saw it and immediately responded. He picked up Xipaya by helicopter and asked her to take him to the exact location of the gold miners' dredger. The attackers spotted them and fled, but Ibama was able to seize their boat and secure the area. "He saved her village, her people, and her parents from immediate attack, and they fell in love and have been together ever since," says Ladkani.
«"I'm usually very shy about things like this, but from the moment I first saw her in the helicopter, I couldn't stop thinking about her," Loss admits. "Three months later, I was conducting a ground operation in Ibama to remove illegal loggers and saw a hawk nest, took a photo of it, and sent it to her," Loss says.
«"That's the bird whose feather I wear in my headdress," Xipaya interrupts shyly. She admits she first met Loss before the helicopter ride, at a meeting, but he was just leaving when she arrived. "He shook my hand, we locked eyes, and something told me—I can't quite put my finger on it—that he would be my husband.".
Indigenous leader Juma Xipaya and her husband Hugo Loss - Lalo de Almeida
Loss holds a master's degree in social anthropology from the University of Brasilia and is one of Ibama's most experienced field agents. However, he spent much of his career on the sidelines under Bolsonaro, who showed little interest in environmental protection. In February 2023, under Lula, he was appointed Ibama's compliance coordinator.
Loss has participated in hundreds of operations. His work is dangerous. We see him flying helicopters over forests to detect mines or patrolling rivers looking for dredgers. Recently, one of his team members was killed in an ambush, and another suffered burns over 60 percent of his body.
Ladkani asked permission to accompany Loss on the raid. "Hugo told me it's too dangerous, the risk of your death is too high. We have a small team, and you'll be taking the soldier's place in the helicopter, so we'll have one less guard, which means our job will be much more difficult. And by the way, if a shootout breaks out, we're not your bodyguards; we're here to finish the job. You'll have to save yourself.".
«"I asked him how dangerous it was, and he said, 'The risk of death is 50 percent.' I laughed, but then I realized he wasn't joking.".
«"Of course, I had to think about it—I have a wife and two daughters. My wife and I discussed it. She grew up in a war zone in Beirut, so she understands the threats and how to mitigate them. She's also the producer of this film. We've had a long journey together—making films about conflict zones, like Sea of Shadows and The Ivory Game, was no easy task. But this film felt completely different to me because of the 50 percent guarantee." He smiles. "I've been trained in hostile environments, and we've tightened up security to the point where I felt it wasn't 50 percent anymore.".
Filmmaker Richard Ladkani in the Brazilian Amazon – Photo courtesy of Malaika Pictures.
So Ladkani joined the team, and what followed was terrifying: they were patrolling the river when they discovered a massive illegal gold dredger. They boarded the dredger, its crew of illegal gold miners was put into a small boat and taken to the shipyard, and Loss's crew set it on fire. While trying to escape, they realized their boat was still attached to the dredger by a chain, and they had only moments before an oxygen tank beneath the dredger's deck exploded. Loss was forced to shoot the chain, but he had to hit it while it was taut, otherwise the bullet would have bounced off. "The oxygen tank is steel, and if it had exploded, the shrapnel would have killed us if we had been within 100 meters of that boat—and we were six meters away." "It was Hugo who fired at the chain—it took at least 50 shots. When Juma saw the footage, she burst into tears," says Ladkani.
Do you like your job? I ask Loss.
He smiles. "Yes, I agree.".
In the 1970s, when two major roads were built into the Amazon rainforest, 60 percent of which is in Brazil, this opened it up to settlers, with devastating consequences: the population of the Brazilian Amazon quadrupled, millions of acres of trees were cleared for timber, land clearing, and agriculture, and rivers became polluted. Thousands of prospectors (garimpeiros) arrived, bringing with them disease, destruction, and violence.
Despite the protected reserves created by Lula during his first term (2003 to 2011), after coming to power, Bolsonaro vowed not to demarcate a single millimeter of indigenous lands.
An illegal gold mining vessel destroyed by the Ibama group in the Brazilian Amazon is dangerous work, with agents risking serious injury and even their lives. – Photo courtesy of Malaika Pictures
There was reason for hope when Lula was re-elected in 2023, especially after he created the Ministry of Indigenous Affairs. But it was a difficult fight, and Xipaya left her post as Secretary of State after about two years and retired to her hometown, where she remains to this day. "She understood that change would be years, if not decades, away, and she felt her strength lay in being active on the front lines, not in an office in the city," says Ladkani. "And what really hurt was that her children had to grow up in the city and lack the connection to nature that she had.".
According to Juma, significant progress has been made compared to the Bolsonaro years, "when genocide reigned." "It's difficult to quantify all the changes, because despite the change in administration, it's important to understand that the government structure is colonialist, regardless of who's in power, and everything takes time. I joined the ministry when it was just beginning.".
«"It was hard working in the office every day and not spending time with my children, and my eight-year-old son, Tuppak, told me he wanted to go back to the forest; he was having a hard time going to school in the city. I didn't want to deprive my son of that kind of childhood—a childhood in nature, where he learns from the forest.".
Smoke from illegal fires lit by farmers rises in Manakiri, Amazonas state — MICHAEL DANTAS/AFP via Getty Images
I ask Loss and Xipaya whether, given the current situation, they're more inclined to hope or despair. "Most of the time, I don't think about the future," Loss says. "I just focus on my work, one operation at a time.".
Xipaya reflects: "It depends on where I am. When I'm in the forest with my family, I feel a tremendous sense of satisfaction that's hard to explain; it gives me hope and energy to continue protecting it, and I want the whole world to know about it.".
«"When I walk through the forest and gather food with my family and my people, it reminds me of what my ancestors did. The innocence of children, the idea of clean water, food without toxins—it gives me hope.".
«"I don't feel despair," says Ladkani. "I feel like we're at war. A lot of good people are fighting back, and that gives me hope. The lives of people we need to care about are at stake—the indigenous peoples who are on the front lines of our defense. They protect nature for us, so we need to make sure they're heard, seen, and respected. And we hope the film will show that from a human perspective.".
«"We can't pretend that destroying the largest ecosystem on the planet is okay. If we lose the Amazon, we lose everything.".
The film "Yanuni" will be released later this year.
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