July, 2025.- In a landscape where stories often get lost in the noise, one campaign stood out—not for the size of its budget, but for the strength of its voice. Born from a moment of casual xenophobia in Brazilian football, this powerful initiative turned a slur into a symbol of pride by spotlighting Gavião Kyikatejê, the first Indigenous professional football team in Brazil.
What followed was not just an ad campaign, but a cultural statement—crafted with honesty, shot on 16mm film, and co-created with the very community it aimed to uplift. In this interview, we speak with the creative mind behind the project about the origins of the idea, the challenges of filming deep in the Amazon, and how real collaboration became the heartbeat of a campaign that inspired brands, creatives, and audiences around the world.
We talk to Victor Toyofuku, VP Creative Director at AREA23, find the story behind this awarded campaign:
What was the initial spark or insight that led to the creation of this campaign for Gavião Kyikatejê? How did the team first come into contact with the story of this football club?
The spark came after a press conference where Palmeiras’ coach made a xenophobic comment about a “team of Indians.” That stuck with me. I started researching and found Gavião Kyikatejê, Brazil’s first Indigenous professional football team.
My first contact was through WhatsApp—I messaged Zeca Gavião, the team’s coach and chief of the people, introduced myself, and said I wanted to talk. We didn’t have a script or plan yet. I just knew this story deserved to be told, and I wanted to build it together with him.
The campaign reclaims a slur and flips it into a message of pride. How did you approach that narrative tension to ensure it was respectful, empowering, and impactful?
The key was letting them lead the story. I didn’t want to speak for them—I wanted to listen. Every step of the campaign was built together with Zeca Gavião and the community. The phrase that once offended became a badge of pride, because they chose to reclaim it. We just helped amplify their voice.
The decision to shoot on 16mm film and incorporate hand-painted animation inspired by Indigenous art is visually striking. Can you walk us through the creative choices behind the film’s aesthetic?
We wanted the film to feel timeless—raw, human, almost handmade. That’s why we chose 16mm and hand-painted animation inspired by their art. But we also mixed in modern techniques and bold visual layers to create something unique—something that doesn’t follow trends but sets its own language. A film that feels ancient and contemporary at the same time—just like their story.
How did collaboration with local Indigenous communities influence the authenticity and storytelling of the campaign? What role did they play in the production beyond appearing on camera?
They weren’t just part of the story—they were co-authors. Zeca Gavião, the coach and chief, helped shape the narrative from day one. His nephew, Madson, also filmed some scenes—they have great cameras and know exactly how to capture life in the village. And every single person in the film is Indigenous. No actors, no casting. Just real people telling their own story. It doesn’t get more authentic than that.
This campaign is not just creative—it delivered real impact, including major sponsorships for the team. What do you think made brands respond so powerfully to this story?
I think it’s because everything about this story was real—from the people to the purpose. It wasn’t just brands stepping in. This project sparked a cascade. People from all over—sound designers, illustrators, editors, influencers—offered their time and talent simply because they believed in it. No one asked, “What’s in it for me?” They just wanted to help. And that honesty is contagious. Brands felt it too. Supporting the team wasn’t just sponsorship—it was standing for something bigger.
From a creative leadership standpoint, what were the biggest challenges of producing this campaign deep in the Amazon, and how did the team overcome them?
Shooting in the Amazon with 16mm film was no joke. We had to rely entirely on natural light, and with film being expensive, there was no room for many takes—or mistakes. We couldn’t even watch playback to check if it worked. It was all about trusting our instincts and each other. And we were just five people on set: director, DP, camera assistant, creative, and executive producer. Small crew, big leap of faith.
Representation in sports marketing is often limited. What message do you think this campaign sends to the global creative industry about the power and necessity of inclusion?
Inclusion isn’t a favor—it’s fuel. This story proved that. When you stop checking boxes and start telling the truth, people listen. That’s the real power of representation.
Looking back after the Cannes Lions recognition, what do you hope will be the long-term legacy of this campaign—for Gavião Kyikatejê, for Indigenous athletes, and for advertising as a tool for cultural change?
Honestly, I just hope this story keeps moving—far beyond me, far beyond awards. That Gavião Kyikatejê keeps growing, and that more Indigenous athletes see what’s possible. And maybe… it reminds us that the true power of creativity isn’t just in creating stories—but in shining a light on the incredible ones that are already out there.
