After playing some of the most recognizable and beloved characters in cinematic history, Harrison Ford is not interested in retiring. “Without my work, I really wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” the 83-year-old actor says. “I really do love the work. … It constantly changes, and the people change, and the mission and the opportunity change, and it just makes for an interesting way to live your life.”

Ford initially struggled to find his footing in Hollywood. He worked on-and-off as a carpenter for years before landing the breakthrough role of Han Solo in the original Star Wars film. He went on to star in the Star Wars sequels, as well as the Indiana Jones movies and Blade Runner — all the while frequently performing his own action scenes.

“I don’t want to have to hide the face of the character because it’s a stunt guy,” he says. “I want [the audience] to feel the blow. I want them to see the anxiety. I want them to be there when the decision is made or when the decision is missed. I just want them to be there.”

In the current Apple TV series, Shrinking, Ford plays a therapist named Paul who’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Thus far, he says, the show’s writers haven’t shared with him the progression of Paul’s disease. Instead, he says, “Like a true Parkinson’s patient, I don’t really know what’s coming. … I’m sort of living with the symptoms I have been last described as having.”

Recently, Ford teared up while accepting a recognition for lifetime achievement at the Actor Awards. “That speech that I wrote was not crafted to be emotional; it just happened to me,” he says. “I feel slightly embarrassed by it, because I have enough experience with these things to want to be able to manage not to be overcome.”

Interview highlights 

On being asked to help in Star Wars auditions while on a carpentry job at Francis Ford Coppola‘s office

I was there sweeping up. I was just finishing the job when George Lucas walked in [who Ford knew from appearing in Lucas’ last film, American Graffiti] … and I’m standing there in my carpenter’s work belt, sweeping up the floor. It turned out to be a fortuitous occasion, because weeks later I would end up being asked if I would do them a favor and read with the other actors who were being considered for the parts. … I never was told that I was ever to be considered, and then at the end of the process, I guess they ended up with two groups of three people that were in final consideration. I’ve always been amused that in the second group, the character of Han Solo would have been played by Chris Walken. I would have loved to see that.

On his most famous ad-lib in a film

[It’s] the line in Star Wars where Princess Leia tells me that she loves me and I say, “I know,” instead of saying “I love you too,” which is the scripted line. Simply the impulse was to be more in character. And George Lucas, who had written the line, was not so happy that I didn’t give him the original version. But I really felt strongly about it. So he made me sit next to him when he previewed the film in a public movie theater in San Francisco and it got … a good laugh. And so he accepted it and left it in.

On seeing Star Wars for the first time on screen

I was blown away. I mean, I was really shocked by the power of the film. We shot in England and our English crew were not used to something like Star Wars, and so they were pretty sure that it was going to be a disaster. And we weren’t far from that opinion, ourselves, the actors.

On performing an emergency landing while flying solo in a vintage World War II airplane

Let’s just start by saying that it was a mechanical failure. … It was a 74-year-old airplane, and I was 74 years old at the time. .. Four hundred feet in the air above the airport, the engine quit. And it’s my home airport, and I was familiar with the surrounding terrain, which is cluttered with houses, wires and cars, and people. So I turned to a golf course that was there. …

In my ear was the very clear voice of one of my aviation mentors who always, when talking about mechanical failures or other kinds of failures, the advice was to “fly the airplane as far into the crash as possible.” You think about this thing when you’re a pilot, you think about the potential, the possibility of it happening, and of course you train. So when it happened, it was not really a surprise, and I thought I knew what I had to do to handle it, so I just started doing the things that needed to be done. … I don’t remember actually being scared. [My injuries] were more than described in the newspaper, but I’m over them all, thank you. I got my license back and continue to fly. … I am not a thrill seeker. I am a very conservative pilot. It’s not that I do crazy stuff for the fun of it.

On objecting to the Vietnam War draft 

I was facing being drafted and I hired a lawyer to represent me to the draft board. I had to explain why I might qualify as a conscientious objector. I explained that I did not have a history of religious affiliation. My mother was Jewish, my father Catholic. … I was raised Democrat. I’m quite happy to accept other people’s versions of God, but I found in a Protestant theologian named Paul Tillich, a sentence that said: If you have trouble with the word God, take whatever is central and most meaningful to your life and call that God.

And to me that was life itself, the complexity, the biodiversity, the incredible integration and complexity of nature, to me seemed to be the same thing as God. And so I prepared an explanation that was probably so unusual that it found the edge of a desk and had a lot of things piled on top of it because it didn’t fit a niche. They never got back to me, basically. The draft board never got back to me.

Lauren Krenzel and Nico Gonzalez Wisler produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Beth Novey adapted it for the web.

There’s a hidden door in Downtown Disney. Only this one isn’t meant to be walked through.

Flanking a stage near the monorail station, you’ll find a glistening white tower, the work of artist and activist Nikkolas Smith, who has adopted the term “artivist.” At first glance, the tower — one of Downtown Disney’s most striking works — appears to be a nod to Disneyland’s Midcentury art, for its curved lines and space-age optimism wouldn’t be out of place in Tomorrowland.

That’s there, says Smith, but there are also a number of more subtle inspirations.

The tower is a nod to five Black architects, trailblazers whose creations sometimes went unnoticed or overlooked. And that’s why at the base of the structure is a looping opening meant to signify a half-open doorway.

Smith shares a distressing anecdote. “They had to learn how to read drawings upside down, because they weren’t allowed to sit next to the white clients,” Smith says, adding they also had to endure unequal pay. “So I was incorporating things like the half doorway to symbolize their struggle.”

Officially designated as the Legacy Tower, Smith himself fixates on that word — “legacy.” The term, he says, represents a thematic constant across his work. A regular collaborator on a number of Walt Disney Co. projects and a former architect with Walt Disney Imagineering, the division of the company focused on theme park experiences, Smith is something of a connector. His canvas art, full of fast-moving brush work, is often rooted in the past while urgently seeking to draw links to the present.

Artist Nikkolas Smith went viral for his portrait of Martin Luther King Jr. in a hoodie, a tribute to slain teenager Trayvon Martin.

(Nikkolas Smith)

Advertisement

His 2025 children’s book, “The History of We,” tells the story of how humanity can trace its roots to Africa. And one of his best-known pieces is of Martin Luther King Jr. in a hoodie, meant to evoke the image of Trayvon Martin, the slain 17-year-old whose death inspired a social justice movement. The work went viral in 2013 while Smith was still working for Imagineering. It altered his career trajectory.

“It was like, ‘I cannot just make art about churros and rides right now,’” Smith says. “There’s a time for that, and there’s also a time to talk about this.” He references his portraits related to the killings of Black men, many at the hands of police officers, such as Philando Castile and Michael Brown.

“At the end of the day, Disney understood that,” Smith adds. “They understood that I needed to make art that was extremely important at the moment, about justice or the lack of justice.”

Smith left Disney in 2019 after 11 years but has maintained a close relationship with the company, so much so that Imagineering called upon Smith to design the tower, which opened in 2023.

Artist Nikkolas Smith, left, chats with guests Ricky Yost and Martina Yost of Aubrey, Texas, who recognized Smith from a recent Disney cruise excursion.

(Gary Coronado / For The Times)

As the Legacy Tower spirals toward the sky, its patterns and and lattice work nod to the likes of James H. Garrott, Robert A. Kennard, Roy A. Sealey, Ralph A. Vaughn and Paul Revere Williams. All were active in Los Angeles — Williams, for instance, was a pivotal designer on the LAX Theme Building — and Smith interlaces decorative flourishes in varying styles that twist around one another to work up the Legacy Tower’s pointed spheres.

The door of the Legacy Tower symbolizes perseverance, Smith says. “They made it through, despite all of the obstacles they had to go through.”

Smith had studied the architects while a student at Hampton University, and has documented on his Instagram their various stylings, which range from restrained to whimsical to ornate. A section referencing Vaughn is modern minimalism, whereas an area dedicated to Sealey is full of jagged, pointed linework. All of it is held together via a coiling design that feels full of movement.

The patterns of the Legacy Tower are nods to the likes of James H. Garrott, Robert A. Kennard, Roy A. Sealey, Ralph A. Vaughn and Paul Revere Williams.

(Gary Coronado / For The Times)

“How can I show humanity’s interconnected future? That’s the idea,” Smith says. “There’s this African theme of Sankofa. If we look toward our future, we have to look at the past and value and appreciate the past. I thought it would be great if I could really commemorate some Black designers and architects as the foundation and backstory of the tower. And I was also thinking about these breezeway block patterns that you see in Leimert Park.”

And yet it also feels like something that belongs in the park. Smith says he looked at some Tomorrowland designs.

“A Midcentury Modern vibe was Walt,” Smith says, referring to park patriarch Walt Disney. “That was Walt’s thing. It all connects. I love that people can hopefully now connect both things. You can connect Tomorrowland and Walt with Paul Revere Williams.”

It’s clearly Smith’s favorite design of his for Disney, although it’s not the only space at the resort that features his artistry. During his decade-plus with Imagineering he regularly worked on teams that focused on projects at Disney California Adventure, which this year is celebrating its 25th anniversary. He was heavily involved, he says, in the evolution of Avengers Campus, contributed to a small promenade stage in Pixar Pier and helped envision the facade of Guardians of the Galaxy — Mission: Breakout!, which transformed the former Tower of Terror into a sci-fi structure.

Nikkolas Smith says elements of Downtown Disney’s Legacy Tower symbolize perseverance.

(Gary Coronado / For The Times)

Smith looks back fondly at his years at Imagineering, specifically calling out his time on the Guardians project. The former fake hotel is now full of glistening bronze pipes, a retro futurist look that former Imagineer Joe Rohde, who led the design, has said takes influence from the high-tech aesthetic of architect Renzo Piano, who worked on France’s Pompidou Centre.

“How much can we add to it? How much can we get away with gluing onto this thing?” Smith says of the Guardians facade. “What is the right amount of ‘Guardians of the Galaxy,’ without being too much? Without scaring people on the freeway?”

Today, Smith continues to focus on social justice work, and has also collaborated with filmmaker Ryan Coogler, such as completing concept designs for his Oscar-nominated film “Sinners.” Smith’s 2023 children’s book “The Artivist” documents the importance of creating art that’s in conversation with the world, believing it’s not only a source for education but for empathy. Smith’s weekly paintings speak out often against the current administration, and Smith has been particularly vocal on the ICE raids.

A selection from “The Artivist,” an illustrated book from Nikkolas Smith.

(Nikkolas Smith)

“Some people say that all art is activism, but I feel that some of the best art that is created is art that has a message,” Smith says. “And hopefully that message has to do with the humanity of all people, and for me, I like to focus on marginalized communities, and how we can value the humanity of everybody. That’s why I make picture books about the origins of humanity and the origins of this country.”

The Leimert Park resident says his wife and young son regularly visit the Disneyland Resort. And when he does, Smith says, he always takes a moment to stop by the Pixar Pier stage that he contributed to, which is often used for character meet and greets.

“They were team projects, and I do go up to them with so much pride,” he says. “I go up to the Pixar Pier promenade stage, and I just go up to it and touch it. … The beautiful thing about Disney is these creations are usually around for a lifetime.”

It turns out you can take the artivist out of Disney, but you can’t fully take the Disney out of the artivist.

Although Mara is unemployed, she is busier than ever.

When she is not taking care of her two children, Mara is at her desk applying for jobs. She is surveying her belongings to see what she can pawn off to buy toiletries. Or she is sifting through bills, calculating which ones can wait and which need to be paid right away.

Soon, Mara, a single mom in Minnesota, may have another task on her busy schedule: figuring out how to afford food for her and her family.

That’s because of new work requirements for people receiving aid from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, also known as SNAP or food stamps.

“It would be so beyond hard” to lose SNAP benefits, Mara said. “Without SNAP, there’s no funds for food.” Mara asked for her last name to be withheld given the stigma tied to receiving government assistance. She is also worried that speaking publicly will affect her chances of getting a job.

Previously, SNAP recipients with children under 18 were exempt from work requirements mandating that recipients work, volunteer or participate in job training at least 80 hours a month. But now, under President Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act, that exemption only applies to those with children under 14 — which is how old Mara’s youngest child turned in December.

“It would be so beyond hard” to lose SNAP benefits, Mara said.

Caroline Yang for NPR

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Caroline Yang for NPR

The Trump administration has argued that the mission of the nation’s largest anti-hunger program has failed.

“SNAP was intended to be temporary help for those who encounter tough times. Now, it’s become so bloated that it is leaving fewer resources for those who truly need help,” the White House said in a statement in June.

But policy experts say the SNAP changes do not fully take into account the unique challenges faced by single parents like Mara or the sluggish job market in many parts of the country. They argue that losing food assistance will only create more barriers for recipients struggling to find work.

The timeline for implementing the new SNAP policy varies based on state and county. In Mara’s home state of Minnesota, recipients who don’t qualify for an exemption or meet work requirements will be at risk of losing assistance as early as April 1. Others may have more months depending on when they next need to certify they are eligible for benefits.

Over 100 job applications

Mara imagined she would have a job by now.

It was August when she was let go from her part-time administrative assistant role due to her workplace restructuring. Since then, Mara estimates that she has applied for over 100 positions. She has also attended job fairs and taken free workshops on resume writing.

She has been working since high school, she said, but “ I’ve never been out of work for more than one month, so it’s very difficult.”

Mara spends time working at the computer at CareerForce, a resource for job seekers in Minnesota, on March 4.

Caroline Yang for NPR

hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Caroline Yang for NPR

Although she misses her old job, Mara said it didn’t pay enough to support her and her kids, so she relied on SNAP benefits.

Many recipients are part of the low-wage labor market, where job security is often unpredictable and turnover tends to be high, according to Lauren Bauer, a researcher at the Brookings Institution who has studied SNAP extensively.

“SNAP is supposed to be there to help people smooth that and not let the bottom fall out when they experience job loss,” she said. “And this policy doesn’t account for that at all.”

Mara’s lowest point came in November when the government shutdown led to disruptions in SNAP benefits. Not only was she searching for a new job, but she was constantly figuring out where to get her family’s next meal.

“I might be looking for food stuff during the day when I should have been looking for a job,” she said. “Then, I’m trying to make up that time in the evening after my kids go to bed.”

During the pause, Mara turned to food banks, which revealed other challenges. First, food pantries do not always provide enough for an adult and two growing teenagers, she said. Second, they often lack gluten-free foods, which is essential for her daughter who has celiac disease, an autoimmune disorder that causes digestive problems if gluten is consumed. Gluten-free products tend to be more expensive.

If Mara loses access to SNAP again because of the new work requirements, she fears another stretch of long days spent looking for the right food and enough to feed her family.

“I would be so reliant on looking for food shelves or food banks,” she said. “There would not be time to even live.”

“We’re going to see increases in poverty. We’re going to see increases in food insecurity”

The Congressional Budget Office estimates that roughly 2.4 million people will lose food benefits in a typical month over the next decade as a result of the new SNAP requirements — including 300,000 parents like Mara with children 14 or older.

Gina Plata-Nino, the SNAP director at the nonprofit Food Research & Action Center, says many of the affected recipients will be single mothers who make up a majority of single parent households in the U.S. She added that the changes target a group that often lacks or struggles to afford a support system to help care for their children.

“How can they have a full-time job when they need to pick up their children [for] various activities?” she said. “And they are working — just not enough hours because they need to be there present for their children.”

Mara shops for groceries at a local discount grocery store.

Caroline Yang for NPR

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Caroline Yang for NPR

The new law also imposes work requirements on veterans, homeless people, young adults aging out of foster care, and able-bodied adults without dependents from ages 55 to 64.

It also toughened the criteria for waiving work requirements for recipients in areas with high unemployment. Previously, there were multiple ways to determine a weak labor market and secure a waiver. Now, it only applies to places with an unemployment rate above 10%. (Alaska and Hawaii have a different measure.)

For those who fail to meet the work requirement, SNAP provides assistance for up to three months within a three-year span. But Bauer from the Brookings Institution argues that it is not enough and the impact of SNAP changes will be widespread.

“We’re going to see increases in poverty. We’re going to see increases in food insecurity. We’re going to see increasing strain on the charitable food sector,” she said.

Mara holds her favorite anchor ring, which carries the inscription, “God for me provide thee.”

Caroline Yang for NPR

hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Caroline Yang for NPR

As anxiety hangs over her head, Mara tries to put on a brave face for her children. She does not want them to worry, explaining that her recent struggles have reminded her how tough life can get as an adult.

“I remind them it’s not their responsibility and they’re not accountable for me or for what’s happening,” she said. “I say, just know you get to be a kid.”