Will Ferrell is hilarious.
He is charming and self deprecating.
He is clearly a loyal and caring friend.
And he is also living in a bubble that allows him to willfully misunderstand why there is any tension around the transgender issue.
In his new Netflix documentary, “Will & Harper” the actor learns his longtime pal, former Saturday Night Live writer Andrew Steele, will be transitioning to live as a woman called Harper. The pair embark on a buddy road trip through America to see how Steele, a beer swigging, sports loving father of two, fairs in this new identity.
And how small town America responds in kind.
For the most part, the film avoids the political to focus on the personal. It’s a journey in a wood paneled Wagoneer through their decades long friendship and Steele’s realization that he wanted to be a lady.
Though there are exceptions. In one scene, Ferrell takes a picture with Indiana governor, Eric Holcomb, and he laments his regret over not confronting him about the state’s ban on so-called “gender affirming care.”
In other words, Holcomb is against medicalizing and potentially sterilizing confused kids in the name of gender identity. Common sense stuff.
And in a new interview with The Independent, Ferrell shows his further delusion.
“But I don’t know why trans people are meant to be threatening to me as a cis male,” Ferrell told The Indepdent. “I don’t know why Harper is threatening to me.”
No one in their right mind sees Steele, or any transgender person, as a threat to a six foot 3 dude. Ferrell is not a woman and hasn’t had his space — locker rooms, prisons, rape centers and sports — invaded by biological men who are able to gain entry with only a few magic words:
“I identify as a woman.”
He hasn’t been told to shut up or be cancelled or suspended when he’s spoken up about having to compete against biological males in every level of sport from youth to collegiate to the Paralympics.
He hasn’t, like Riley Gaines, been harrassed and even attacked simply because she advocated for fairness in women’s sports.
He doesn’t have daughters so maybe he hasn’t had to worry about this blurring of biological truth.
And yet, a high minded Ferrell conflates real substantive objections with ignorance and intolerance. Why can’t everyone just be as open minded as him?
“It’s so strange to me, because Harper is finally… her,” Farrell says. “She’s finally who she was always meant to be. Whether or not you can ultimately wrap your head around that, why would you care if somebody’s happy? Why is that threatening to you? If the trans community is a threat to you, I think it stems from not being confident or safe with yourself.”
Most people do not begrudge Steele happiness. We care if Steele’s happiness infringes on our rights as women.
After all, the movie itself proves that generally people are kind. In the film, the pair visit an Oklahoma dive bar adorned with pro Trump flags and Steele arrives solo, striking up friendly chats with some locals.
Then Ferrell enters and they are serenaded by Native Americans as a toothless man, nursing a bottled beer, preaches acceptance. At a racetrack, Steele speaks to a man about transitioning but still wanting to enjoy the traditionally masculine pursuits that Andrew once loved. But now, as Harper.
The stranger is, of course, welcoming and sweet. Both encounters prompt Steele to admit, “I’m not afraid of these people. I am afraid of hating myself.”
One can’t help but like Steele, which is clearly Ferrell’s aim. He wants to protect his friend. But he is wrongfully casting aspersions.
And while it’s a compelling, raw and at many times a funny documentary, there’s a great irony. Neither Steele nor Ferrell, who buys his friend diamond earrings, know the first thing about being a woman.
I wish Steele a long, healthy and fulfilled life.
But I also wish Ferrell would stop preaching from inside his ivory tower of virtue.
