Harper Steele and Will Ferrell (Photo by George Pimentel/Shutterstock for Sundance)
As the lengthy standing ovation subsides after the Sundance Film Festival premiere of Will & Harper, Josh Greenbaum is choked up. “I’m just really overwhelmed,” the director says as he looks out at the packed-to-the-gills Eccles Theatre. “The love that these two friends have for each other is just so special. I’m so grateful for this moment.”
The two friends he’s referring to are Will Ferrell and Harper Steele — a pair that have been friends for 30 years since their early days at Saturday Night Live, but since Steele’s coming out as a trans woman, the two had to step into a new phase of their lives and friendship. To solidify their bond — and get to know each other again — Ferrell and Steele take off on a cross-country road trip to reintroduce Steele to some of her favorite places: backwoods bars, truck stops, and sporting events.
The result is a buddy pic that, while it has some clearly staged moments (Ferrell brought many costumes in his suitcase), just shows two friends becoming comfortable with each other again. The humor in this film is so natural; it’s exciting to be a fly on the Jeep wall while these comedy mainstays riff. You can feel the duo continue to let down their guard — Ferrell worried he might accidentally offend Steele with questions, and Steele worried she might lose one of her best friends — with each recurring bit they workshop.
“We’re comedy writers,” Steele says, explaining their writing process. “So we came up with a lot of bad ideas first and then we decided no idea was the best way forward.” Greenbaum doubled down on the common language of comedy being beneficial to, literally anyone: “I’ve always believed that laughter is the shortest distance between two people.”
In a project about identity, friendship, and navigating the country through new eyes, the love and commitment to each other is immense. Ferrell’s outward ease of correcting people when they misgender Steele and explaining their once-in-a-lifetime trip should be the standard for all, but his vulnerability in the car with Steele after disappointing moments, like when he briefly chatted with the governor of Indiana at a Pacers game not knowing his offensive anti-trans legislation, is what true allyship is all about: realizing your shortcomings, talking those uncomfortable moments out with your friends, and striving to be there for them in every situation.
When asked about his vulnerability in Will & Harper, Ferrell knew that would be a no-brainer for the project: “If we were going to treat this with dignity, I owed it to Harper to be as open and honest as she was being.” Steele nods her head. “I’m closing after this project,” she says with a laugh. “No more openness!”
And good for her. Especially after laying bare her experience, handing over her personal diary from before her transition, braving spaces that are not typically safe for trans people, and coming out to the entire world as well as her friends and family, Steele deserves to live her life exactly how she wants to.
At the start of the post-premiere conversation, Steele begins to answer questions without holding the mic up to her face. All you can hear is a faint murmur. Ferrell gently reminds her to amplify her voice so everyone can hear her. “This is not my job,” she says. “I write and misspell things.”
That’s Will & Harper in a nutshell.
To see more of the magic from the 2024 Festival, click here.
