‘Will and Harper’ review: The power of Will Ferrell and true friendship compels stigmas to fall

A pair of friends hit the road for a trip, making new discoveries and jumping over barriers along the way.

We all like to think movie stars are good people, as in they have a big heart and give a shit about more than their immediate family. An idea that will only help the process digest easier. It’s safe to assume this much without really knowing for sure, because it feels right and helps the product. If the recent Netflix release, Will and Harper, teaches us anything, it’s that Will Ferrell has a big heart and a will (no pun intended) to venture into the unknown with only a pal and an old yet reliable car in order to teach people about choice.

That’s the heart of the documentary, which sees Ferrell and one of his closest friends and former lead writer for Saturday Night Live, Harper Steele (formerly Andrew), go on a cross country road trip to understand and spread awareness for human beings who transition from one sex to the other. In Harper’s case, it’s going from a male to a female, something that takes real guts to do and even more bravery to go across the states into areas that don’t (or don’t care to) understand the reasons for a man deciding he wants to be a “she” instead.

The two find welcoming arms at a monster truck event, but not in a restaurant full of Donald Trump supporters and humans who think someone is evil for making a change to their body. Ferrell and Stevens dive headfirst into the uncomfortable zone to make something truly inspirational for so many closeted or currently transitioning people.

Thanks to the two leads being well versed in comedy, there are plenty of laughs. From a whimsical demand for Dunkin Donuts to silly jokes about gender switches, the two find the humor in their endeavor. While some would question the need for a documentary about a road trip across America’s heartland, the disconnect across the country makes it a timely tale. After all, there’s a big chunk of the U.S.A. that devote their entire belief system to a religious book about one holy dude, yet can’t make a correlation between humans deciding to be what they have felt like since childhood and basic choice.

Adding Ferrell is like adding a couple packets of sugar to the cup of bold coffee, a necessary thread that helped kick the whole project in motion. After getting an email from Steele one afternoon, Ferrell used his “whoa” response to formulate an idea to show us the process of learning about a friend going through transition. It shows us another shade of a movie superstar, and maybe answers questions many will have about transexuals.

At the end of the day, we all want to go out into the wild unknown that is a few steps away from our sidewalk and feel comfortable enough to not switch into another alien persona that we have designed specifically for camouflage from overly judgmental strangers. Yet, here we are, bristling towards 2025 and still so far apart in what we decide to tolerate as normal in our world.

One of the more insightful aspects of Will and Harper is Harper struggling with the opinion she has of herself. Over the course of the breezy 114-minute movie, Steele reads from a diary he kept years before his transition, giving a perspective that mirrors his current state of life. The two go into bars, restaurants, sporting events, and Walmart parking lots doing what any pair of longtime pals do--but there’s a lurking search for acceptance in every setting. It gives the movie a sense of thrill and begging for hope as the two stretch for positivity in each pit stop.

Bravo to Ferrell, Netflix, and whoever helped put the thing together. Biggest of salutes goes to Steele, who puts herself on a giant pedestal for the world to judge in the documentary. Sure, the attention to her life can be rewarding, but I also bet it’s surreally scary as well. There’s a resilience that one needs in order to go through with something like Will and Harper.

A long way of saying thank you, Mr. Ferrell and Mrs. Steele, for going the distance and showing us something new in a documentary. It says a lot without having to say much at all, and the ode to true friendship is paramount. Something fresh, inviting, funny, and thoughtful. A scene including lots of fireworks will put a smile on your face. A lovely song (and cameo) from Kristen Wiig hits the mark. All of it hits.

Remember this one around award-voting time, my fellow critics. To all, give it a watch. Well done.