Will & Harper

In the UK today, if you follow the mainstream media, you’ll see trans people – especially trans women – blamed for all of society’s (real and imaginary) ills. In the US, you’ll see something similar, but with a side order of state-level legislation which goes way beyond the banning of medication for young people to make it harder and harder for trans people of any age to access healthcare, avail themselves of their civil rights or exist in public spaces. Yet at the same time as this is happening, public awareness of trans people is increasing, and more people are growing curious about the realities of trans lives. If ever there were a time for a non-sensational, quietly informative documentary on the subject, it is now. Will & Harper is that film, and it also just happens to be one of the best documentaries of the past year.

The Will of the title is Will Ferrell, Saturday Night Live alumnus and, so he assures us, one of the best actors in the world. The Harper is Harper Steel, a former SNL writer who was, at one point, his champion, standing up for him when others attached to the programme doubted his talent. They knew each other for years, lost touch during lockdowns; then, on set one day, he got her letter and learned about her transition.

Coming out is always a terrifying moment – one when some people lose everyone they ever cared for – but this film isn’t interested in moments like that. Instead it focuses on events some weeks later when the two old friends reunited to undertake, at Will’s instigation, a road trip across the country, stopping at places that have been important to them at the past. It’s a way of enabling Harper to reengage with life in her new circumstances, despite the different risks she now faces, from transphobia and misogyny. “I don’t want to be afraid of people anymore,” she says. “I want to be in the world.”

Will never hesitates in his loyalty to her, but, like many people in that kind of situation, he has questions. How long has Harper been living with her painful secret? Does she see herself as a different person now - would he be making a totally new friend? What if she’s gone off beer and is only into wine? There are many reasons to be uncertain, which make the reunion that follows all the sweeter.

We see them packing. She struggles to squeeze multiple dresses and, most importantly, an abundance of shoes into her case. He struggles to find room for his Sherlock Holmes costume, and reluctantly has to leave his saxophone behind. (Some audience members will no doubt be relieved.) He worries, at first, that he’ll say the wrong things, but working together in comedy gives people a good understanding of one another’s boundaries, of how far they can go. Harper is not a delicate flower. When she’s pushed into uncomfortable places it’s due not to his words but to his face. His fame attracts attention – sometimes more of it than she can handle. It brings them into proximity with influential people whom they may or may not want to be perceived as supporting.

The journey takes them to places that Will begins to understands in new ways. At a Lakers game, Harper talks about how she got into sports so no-one would notice that she was a woman. In a scuzzy country bar with a confederate flag and big sign that reads ‘Fuck Biden,’ he worries about her, but the response she gets is not quite what either of them imagined. Later, in a restaurant, they both start to feel hostility around them, and later they read a string of hostile tweets about it. How much, though, do those tweets represent real life? For the most part, the people they meet don’t seem very bothered at all. Then there’s a former therapist they get talking to who remembers, 30 years previously, failing a gender questioning client because she didn’t understand, and it’s clear that the pain caused by prejudice doesn’t just affect trans people and their loved ones but a whole lot of other people too.

As they travel, director Josh Greenbaum intermittently superimposes a map, and we see the names and outlines of cities and states. Some of those will make trans viewers shudder; privately, people are warning one another not to travel there, though of course that doesn’t help those who are there already and have no money to leave. These are still places that Harper loves, however, and Zoë White’s elegiac cinematography helps us to understand why, to grasp the deeper relationship between a land and its people. The film is full of vast, beautiful landscapes which would seem to have room for everyone. We hear audio news clips about some of the latest anti-trans bills being proposed or passed, and we hear the gentle music that binds these two friends together, seeming to speak for the land. Greenbaum pinpoints the tension between the hate eating away at parts of US society and the tremendous potential that the country still has.

As you might expect given the professions of its stars, the film is full of humour. Some of it is deep and moving; some of it involves dressing up in ridiculous costumes or making dad jokes. At one point the pair decide that they need a theme song for the trip, and of course they know exactly the right people to get one made for them – Kristen Wiig’s effort went on to receive a Critics Choice Awards nomination. These bouts of manic silliness don’t get tiring, however, as the film overall has a quiet, easy going charm. Despite being almost two hours long, it never drags, capturing the rhythm of a road trip so that viewers will feel as if they’re travelling too.

Despite Will’s initial nerves, the conversation flows easily, the banter natural as ever. He often stands back, taking the position of an observer, prioritising Harper’s needs, and there’s a quietness to his approach that masks his slowly growing anger as he comes to understand the enormity of what his friend has to contend with. An emotional conversation near the end, when both let loose a little, is deftly underplayed but heartbreaking nonetheless. It’s balanced by the joy that both of them find in the deepening of their friendship and in the unexpected warmth sometimes offered by strangers. Will & Harper’s triumph lies in the way that it manages to strip away political baggage and focus on human beings. It’s a powerful, valuable piece of work, and a joy to watch.