Will Ferrell goes Trans-America in touching road trip doco

Will & Harper sees Will Ferrell drive across America with his old friend, recently out trans woman Harper Steele. Among other things, it’s a film about how trans people are just trying to live their lives and be happy, and a doco capable of genuinely ridiculous and beautiful moments, says Amelia Berry.

2014 was supposed to be ‘The Transgender Tipping Point’—the pivot from trans people being a reviled but largely overlooked demographic to a celebrated strand in the vibrant fabric of modern liberal society. In the ten years since, with the Western world finding itself increasingly polarised, radicalised, and generally miserable, trans people have instead found themselves as a central battleground in a nasty culture war.

More and more we’re seeing laws being passed to punish gender deviance and criminalise medical transition, more and more we’re seeing trans people explicitly excluded from public life, more and more the Transgender Tipping Point seems like just another in the long list of things Time Magazine has gotten wrong.

All this is the unlikely background to Will & Harper, the new Netflix road-trip documentary starring Will Ferrell (yes, from Anchorman, Step Brothers, Elf, etc.).

Will, we know. Harper is Harper Steele—writer on SNL from 1995 to 2008, and recently out trans woman. Wanting to reconnect with his old friend and learn more about her new life as a woman, Will suggests to Harper that they drive across America, visiting small towns and dive bars—something that Harper used to love but has been too frightened to do since she came out.

One of the reasons Will & Harper exists is as a tool to educate people about what it means to be trans. As far as that goes, it’s refreshingly blunt. Ferrell isn’t afraid to ask dumb questions and nobody who appears in the film seems shy about giving straight-up answers. Seeing Harper’s evident discomfort as Will talks to her kids about how they still call her ‘pop’ or ‘dad’ is more revealing of the awkward navigations of transition than any daring trans celebrity memoir.

This raison d’etre sometimes leads the film into more mawkish and heavy-handed territory though. In one scene, Harper is overwhelmed by the acceptance and love she feels at a sketchy MAGA dive bar in the outback of nowhere. It’s a touching moment, spoiled by being framed as some discovery of the true soul of America, with a dreadful cover of America (duh) by Simon and Garfunkel blasting for what felt like five minutes. It’s a sentimental patriotism that is difficult to understand outside of the USA.

What makes Will & Harper worth watching though, is the deeply felt bond between the two friends. Harper is anxious to know whether Will still sees her as the man she was and hates. Will struggles to reconcile his easy-going, affable way with the sudden abuse, hate, and just plain standoffishness directed at Harper. But despite the tension, their deep love for each other only becomes more apparent as the trip goes on.

Towards the end, Will is in disguise to take Harper to dinner (“I’m David Abernathy, I managed Bette Midler for a little while… and Air Supply”). They’re talking frankly about self-consciousness, appearances, and getting used to changes in yourself. All the while, Will’s stick-on Fu Manchu moustache is being melted off by a nearby brazier. Drooping further and further through every reassurance and revelation. I laughed and I cried, big stupid tears and guffaws. A genuinely ridiculous and beautiful moment.

In a documentary, every cut is a compromise between what the film is, and what the film could be. Will & Harper is a lot of things. It’s a road trip across America. It’s an SNL reunion with all your favourite comedy actors. It’s a search for the heart of small town USA. It’s about how trans people are just trying to live their lives and be happy.

Not every one of these is successful—it certainly could have done with a lot less Kirsten Wiig, Tina Fey, Seth Meyers etc. etc., and a little more of Will and Harper just hanging out and shooting the breeze. But as a portrait of two friends reconnecting, rediscovering how much they really care about each other, driving around making stupid jokes and drinking cheap beer? When Will & Harper is that, it’s brilliant.