And The Sopranos is on right now. Six years after the show went off the air, it remains a staple on the various HBO side channels, enduring in perpetual rotation in a way that other acclaimed series from the network haven’t quite. Not that there’s any shortage of treasures within the show, led by the inspiration of creator David Chase and a multitude of great performances. But watch any given episode and it’s clear that a major part of its greatness–the reason it truly lasts–is the incredible central performance by James Gandolfini. It’s absolutely one of the pinnacles in the history of the medium, bringing depth, creativity and a mixture of humor, viciousness and pathos unlike anything that had been seen before. He opened up possibilities for actors on the small screen just as surely as the series redrew the parameters of episodic television.

It’s a shame that Gandolfini never really found the right role away from Tony Soprano, because he clearly had the talent to escape typecasting. His best moments on film–all coming after The Sopranos changed his career–are those that exploit the simmering danger that defined Tony Soprano while simultaneously upending expectations. In The Mexican, he’s actually quite wonderful and charming as a hitman who strikes up an unlikely friendship with the woman he’s charged with nabbing, developing better chemistry with Julia Roberts than many of the men specifically employed to woo her onscreen. And there’s his lovely voice performance as Carol in Spike Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are, relaying the sadness, anger and gravel-pinged hope of his hulking beast. Most of the time, though, there was a strong sense that filmmakers didn’t quite know what to do with him, how to harness his creative insights into a two-hour stretch when The Sopranos made it clear he prospered with a wider, lengthier tapestry.

Truth is, he probably belonged on HBO, a network that often forges notable partnerships with creators and actors, finding ways to let them pursue projects that couldn’t conceivably find a home anywhere else. Gandolfini produced two separate documentaries about the struggles of American veterans for the cable giant and recently saw a new proposed series get picked up to air as a variation of a mini-series, presumably with some chance of continuing after that. Perhaps the embrace of the new project (after an initial rejection following a prolonged development process) was loyalty to a man instrumental in the network’s transformation from a repository for recent Hollywood films to a true television powerhouse, or maybe it had something to do with a recognition that he had an uncommon talent–an obvious cunning to his craft, a surprisingly warm emotional palette–that could generate great things when given proper room and patience. As the network executives discovered over a dozen years ago when they gave the lead in their new series to this little-known character actor, he was worth the risk. He could make great things happen.