He was the kind of star who seemed to live in several eras at once, his face evolving but never quite leaving the screen. As Moondoggie in Gidget, he walked out of the waves and straight into pop culture history, becoming the soundtrack and poster on a million bedroom walls. Yet the teenage heartthrob never settled for a single role. He sang, recorded albums, and kept reinventing himself, moving from silver screen to television with the same unforced ease that made him feel like someone you’d always known.

With T.J. Hooker, he became the steady presence audiences trusted every week, then slipped behind the camera to direct shows that defined the ’80s and ’90s. On Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, he reappeared like a memory you didn’t know you missed, crooning in a holographic lounge. Now, the sets are dark and the stages silent, but his work keeps looping in the minds of those who grew up with him. In the end, James Darren leaves what every performer hopes for: not just credits, but a feeling that outlives the final scene.