Will & Harper’s title introduces Will Ferrell – the far more famous face in this duo – first but for a compelling reason: Because Ferrell’s lifelong friend Harper Steele, a former Saturday Night Live head writer, had not yet settled on her name when she first wrote a letter to Ferrell coming out as a trans woman at the age of 61. (“Name forthcoming,” she signed the letter.) Make no mistake: Harper is in the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively, as they roadtrip across America, reacquainting themselves. Will, riding shotgun, plays the part of the Everyman-Ally, sweetly supportive and tentatively asking questions about Harper’s transition. The camera’s there for a reason, and Will & Harper, by and large, is instructive in the best of ways. (After a limited theatrical run, the film arrives on Netflix on Sept. 27 – the kind of visibility that has the possibility of making a real impact.)
The documentary (by Josh Greenbaum, director of comedies Strays and Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar) is roomy enough to chew on the complications of traveling with one of America’s favorite comedians (the idea of a safe space changes when Ron Burgundy is your wingman), while also accommodating heartfelt conversations and the kind of good-natured goofiness you’d expect from middle-aged comedians. Harper and Will both come off like good eggs, and the tears wept on both sides – about the decades of deep pain Harper felt denying her true identity, and the terrible realization for Will that he was blind to that pain – are liable to goose sincere tears of your own.
This article appears in September 13 • 2024.
