When James Garner passed away the other week at the age of 86 I felt as if I had lost a favorite uncle. Wry, worldly wise, down to earth, a little cynical, a little cranky, very funny and definitely a man’s man, Garner was a uniquely successful and uniquely American actor. The native Oklahoman started out in 1950s television after a very brief theater apprenticeship, and quickly achieved fame in Maverick as the title character Brett Maverick, the dapper and quick-witted Old West card sharp who preferred talking his way out of trouble to shooting. He then rose to stardom as a romantic lead and action star during the last gasp of the old Hollywood studio system: alongside Steve McQueen and Charles Bronson playing the Scrounger in the all-star POW epic The Great Escape and wooing Julie Andrews in Blake Edwards’ sly, sophisticated anti-war comedy, the Americanization of Emily (Garner’s own favorite film). After the excellent Western comedy Support Your Local Sheriff and a foreshadowing turn as a bemused Marlowe, he found cultural immortality back on TV as the iconic and perpetually harassed ex-cop, ex-con gumshoe Jim Rockford.

For those of us who grew up in the 1970s, The Rockford Files was omnipresent, from the jaunty Mike Post theme song after the answering machine sequence to the initial run from 1974-1980 to the endless repeats in syndication. The series gleefully embraced a non-glamorous LA with the laconic and perpetually broke private eye working low rent bars and strip clubs while living in a cheap trailer home on Malibu beach, getting his meals from taco and hotdog stands and bouncing checks at the local grocery. It was a unique persona for a hero PI, totally at odds with, say, the slick rich kid mastermind of George Peppard’s Banacek. But then, maybe that’s why The Rockford Files went on to television immortality while Banacek, for all its tacky turtlenecked pleasures, is more of a fun footnote. There was just something so original about Jim Rockford as a hero: the loud sports coats with wide lapels; the wrongful conviction that gave him his cynical perspective; the beatdowns given and received; the clever ruses and identity games when on assignment; his meddling and very funny father (Noah Beery); and always a good old fashioned car chase in the mysteriously overpowered and rubber screeching gold Pontiac Firebird.

I told you that theme song was omnipresent! Garner was, in fact, an excellent driver and racer — he caught the bug starring in John Frankenheimer’s seminal racing movie, Grand Prix, competing in several grueling Baja 1000s thereafter — and did much of his own driving on the series, as well as many of his own stunts. This led to numerous injuries and surgeries but Garner bravely soldiered on through the demanding requirements of Rockford, upholding his own sense of professionalism for over 120 episodes. When the show finally ended he had a very good third act despite undergoing quintuple bypass surgery in 1988. He had major roles in TV movies like My Name Is Bill W., the story of the founding of Alcoholics Anonymous; was very funny working with Edwards’ and Julie Andrews again in the cross-dressing farce, Victor Victoria; and found cantankerous love with Sally Field in Martin Ritt’s Murphy’s Romance (Garner’s only Oscar nomination). He stayed busy until the end of his life, with distinguished work as one of a quartet of aging astronaut’s in Clint Eastwood’s enjoyable Space Cowboys and as the Narrator and protagonist’s older self in the Ryan Gosling-Rachel McAdams mega hit, The Notebook, among many other roles, including playing opposite Mel Gibson while he played his old character in Richard Donner’s big budget reboot of Maverick.

One of my favorite late roles of Garner’s was as the aging former studio security chief still protecting the secrets of his old stars Gene Hackman and Susan Sarandon from Paul Newman’s relentless curiosity in Robert Benton’s underrated Twilight. Looking back now at the totality of his life and career, one sees how very fitting it is to have him as part of that illustrious ensemble. Very subtly and with the passage of the years, James Garner revealed himself to be one of the very best and most unique actors. Yes, he was the “natural” type always playing variations of himself. But it is a testament to his amiable personal qualities and skill that for over 50 years the American public never tired of him and was forever happy to welcome him on their TV or movie screens. Watching Garner act was like catching up with an old friend or relation who never failed to make you smile when he dropped by. Because while you may have known most of his stories he always found a way to tell them with disarmingly self-deprecating humor and in an inimitably effortless and entertaining style. The man is gone now but that James Garner style remains, the wonderful legacy of a performer who in retrospect was a surprisingly brilliant actor.