Three summers ago, Will Ferrell received an email with the subject line ‘Here’s A Weird One’. His best friend of nearly 30 years was coming out as a trans woman.
That friend was comedy writer Harper Steele. And, given they first met working on TV sketch show Saturday Night Live and later making hilarious movies like Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga together, I ask Will if he, initially, took the email as a prank?
‘No, because I could tell with how carefully constructed the email was that this was not a joke,’ the Elf and Anchorman star states, when Metro meets him and Harper, seated behind an outlandishly large fruit bowl at a luxury London hotel.
‘It was major, major news that I didn’t not see coming. So, I took it to heart right away and responded as best I could.’
That response eventually took the form of Will & Harper, a lovely, honest and heartwarming documentary in which the two pals take a road trip across America, from New York to LA, via Oklahoma and Texas, to process this bombshell news into their friendship.
‘When Will first suggested the idea, he was very much, “You don’t have to do this”‘ recalls Harper, looking resplendent today in a hot pink blouse and matching stilettos. ‘He didn’t want to exploit me in any way.’
Far from the larger-than-life Hollywood goofball you might expect, known for his outrageous outfits in Zoolander and Blades Of Glory, Will is looking studiously neutral today. Blending into the background, in as much as a 6ft 3 Hollywood star can, in a brown jumper and cream jeans, he’s clearly determined not to hog the spotlight away from his friend.
‘I’m sure there’s going to be a number of reactions to my involvement in this’ Will says of those accusing him of jumping on some liberal ‘woke’ bandwagon. ‘But I don’t spend a lot of energy thinking about it. Once I make a decision, I go forward.
‘I’d just say it’s definitely not who I am in terms of anything I’ve done in my life, personally or spoken out about. And I’m so proud of this wonderful, beautiful thing we got to participate in.’
What did worry him was that he might lose his friendship with Harper, or not be ready to defend her or say the ‘wrong’ thing. But Harper made it as easy and generous as possible.
‘Will is not a gender studies graduate student’ she smiles, with a gap-toothed grin. ‘None of us are.’
And that’s where Will & Harper, the movie, comes in. As a blundering CIS male, Will is given the space to ask everything a viewer might want to. From the silly stuff like, ‘Do you think you’re a worse driver now you’re female?’ to tough, taboo areas like bottom surgery. Nothing was out of bounds.
‘She kept reassuring me like “It’s okay. Just do it! Spit it out! Don’t try to be perfect,”‘ he confesses. ‘And, honestly, you see me stammer and stumble through every question, in a way. But I think that’s really good for the audience to see.’
I push him on what the toughest question to ask was. He pauses. ‘It felt very personal to ask about her about her dating life’. The star pauses again and his eyes become moist.
‘And it felt very personal to ask about dark thoughts she had. The suicidal thoughts.’ He dashes away a tear, looking vulnerable as an overgrown teddy bear.
Funny as the doc is, including moments with Will dressing up as Sherlock Holmes and demanding to go to Dunkin’ Donuts, it’s also deeply emotional.
When I speak to director Josh Greenbaum later, he recalls sitting behind a car and ‘sobbing for a long time’ after he filmed Harper turning to Will at a dirt car racetrack, where redneck regulars welcomed her, and realising that ‘I’m less afraid that people will hate me and more afraid that I may hate myself.’
Yet out of the darkness comes light. Harper has said she ultimately wanted to make the movie to be ‘useful’ and it’s already been acclaimed as ‘a film that saves lives’.
‘I want people to understand that there’s so much joy in being trans’ she declares, sitting up taller. ‘We tend to think there’s something that needs to be cured or solved or a way to alleviate the feelings of trauma around dysphoria. But the dysphoria comes from not being yourself.’
Will chimes in – the two friends frequently finish each other’s thoughts, bantering, comfortably, back and forth. ‘I think you sum it up so well when you said, “am I sad that it took me so long?”
Steele transitioned at the age of 61. ‘Yes, part of me is. But at the same time, I can’t stop smiling that this person wouldn’t go away and kept bubbling to the surface.’’
Harper smiles, triumphantly. ‘My nature defeated everything else that was working against me. Hat’s the greatest battle that’s been going on inside me my whole life – and I won! I feel great about that.’
For these two friends, the journey was important, but so was reaching an uplifting end point.
‘To be trans is a superpower’, concludes Harper ‘It’s a wonderful place to be.’