'Shrinking' Gave Harrison Ford the Role That Finally Made Him Truly Mortal

Though plans may change, Bill Lawrence and company originally envisioned Shrinking as a three-season story. Knowing that, I think I can already see where the third season is headed: Brett Goldstein’s character, Louis, becomes a patient at Jimmy’s practice; Gaby (Jessica Williams) and Derrick #2 (Damon Wayans Jr.) end up together; Jimmy finds love again; Alice goes off to college and it devastates Jimmy; and Harrison Ford’s character, Paul, passes away as his battle with Parkinson’s takes a turn.

I’ve been bracing myself for how hard that will hit me. It’s not just the inevitable loss of Paul that stirs me but also the looming reality of someday losing the 82-year-old Harrison Ford. The thought is gutting, and it feels doubly so because of what Shrinking has done for his legacy.

Harrison Ford was already admired and revered long before this Apple TV+ series. He’s the face of two of the most iconic characters in film history, Indiana Jones and Han Solo. Beyond those roles, his storied career spans classics like Blade Runner, The Fugitive, Air Force One, and his stint as Jack Ryan. Yet, what we’ve rarely seen Ford embody over decades of playing beloved action heroes is a character who feels truly … mortal.

In Shrinking, Paul has many qualities we associate with Ford: he’s a cranky, anti-social curmudgeon with a brilliant deadpan delivery. But Paul is also old in ways we don’t typically associate with Ford. He has Parkinson’s, and the trembling of his hands feels so natural, so authentic, that I sometimes forget it’s just a character.

Paul, however, is more than his illness. He’s funny, warm, and heartbreakingly vulnerable in a way no one has ever written for Harrison Ford. His characters have often had soft hearts beneath a steely exterior, but Paul wears his openly. It feels like he’s trying to mend broken bridges and set things right with the people in his life before his time runs out.

That is a tough pill to swallow—the thought that Harrison Ford, a man still wielding whips and lightsabers well into his late 70s and early 80s, will someday run out of time. That knowledge brings an extra layer of poignancy to an already tender series. I don’t know what Ford is like in his private life—very few of us do—but I’m certain he’s not Han Solo or Jack Ryan when he’s walking around in pajamas with Calista Flockhart.

The more I watch Shrinking, the more I believe Paul may be the closest we’ll ever get to knowing the real Harrison Ford. And the thought of losing that man, with all his humor, warmth, and humanity, is heartbreaking. My reaction to his passing will feel very different now than it might have a few years ago. “Harrison Ford, the Greatest Action Hero in Film History, Dies at 89” doesn’t hit as hard as “Harrison Ford, Big-Hearted Compassionate Grump, Dies at 89.”

Ford has always been larger than life, but Shrinking has made him feel achingly human. While it may not be his most commercially successful project, it might ultimately define him — not as a star, but as a person.