Harrison Ford is arguably the only actor who’s ever become a major, long-haul movie star off the back of Star Wars. Yes, plenty of Star Wars players became well-known (Mark Hamill) or had a profile bump (Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman), but Ford was pretty much the only one who became a bankable, name-above-the-title leading man for decades to come. So it was only appropriate that Adam Driver, the actor who played Han Solo’s son Kylo Ren in the Star Wars sequel trilogy, seemed as if he could become the second. Five years after that trilogy concluded, though, Driver seems somewhat less likely to assume Ford’s mantle.

Not that Driver is any worse for wear. In fact, he’s worked with the most impressive roster of directors ever seen for an actor who’s still just 40. Since his film debut in 2011, Driver has worked with Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, the Coen Brothers, Spike Lee, Noah Baumbach (multiple times, including one movie co-written by Greta Gerwig), Michael Mann, Clint Eastwood, Rian Johnson, Jim Jarmusch (twice, with a third film on the way), Steven Soderbergh, Ridley Scott (twice), Leos Carax, Terry Gilliam, and now Francis Ford Coppola, whose Driver-starring dream project Megalopolis is in theaters now. (He has also become a valued Saturday Night Live guest host, having appeared four times since 2016, a shoo-in to join the vaunted five-timers club.)

For comparison, Ford himself, twice Driver’s age, has worked with Coppola, Spielberg, and Scott; he can also claim several big names that Driver can’t (Kathryn Bigelow; Peter Weir; Denis Villenueve). But he can’t match the younger actor’s eclecticism. At this point, it might be easier to list the major filmmakers Driver hasn’t yet checked off: Wes Anderson, Sofia Coppola, Todd Haynes, David Fincher, Christopher Nolan, Kelly Reichardt. Maybe Brian De Palma if he wants to finish up the ’70s movie brats. (George Lucas would be a get, but doing someone else’s Star Wars might have to suffice.)

Driver doing a movie with any of the above has come to seem vastly more likely than him starring in another Star Wars-level blockbuster – which inevitably leads to question, so often asked in the IP-as-star era, of whether he’s any kind of box office draw. The grosses for Megalopolis, Ferrari, and The Last Duel suggest not – these were all big-budget, wide-release movies from major directors with Driver front and center of substantial marketing campaigns, and all together they’ll make about as much as House of Gucci, which itself is Driver’s biggest non-Star Wars hit, and also less widely-seen than several of Ryan Gosling’s purported flops.

Does it matter that Adam may not be, ah, driving any ticket sales? He’s obviously not dreaming of Ryan Reynolds status, casting about for brand partnerships and becoming a stakeholder in a cell-phone company. Driver doesn’t even seem like he wants to carry the torch for fellow auteur-courting leading men like Brad Pitt and (in his ’90s heyday) Tom Cruise; his starring roles aren’t really designed as movie star showcases in the same way. Those guys played up their slickness or mythic qualities before dipping into gnarlier, messier parts, while Driver leans into his own potential remoteness. Think of Enzo Ferrari, a racecar driver and businessman who Driver plays with a combination of deadpan wit, single-minded obsession, and haunted regrets; his need for speed is never as straightforward as Cruise’s Top Gun hotdogging. Driver’s distinctive delivery – consider the way he says “ghouls” in The Dead Don’t Die, or his already-memed sarcastic pronunciation of “cluuuub” in Megalopolis – has a touch of Christopher Walken. Even his Star Wars villain Kylo Ren feels both smaller and more sexual than the iconic baddies seen elsewhere in the series.

These are not necessarily qualities that inspire consumer spending. (Then again, I’d wager that a lot of Kylo Ren merch moved pretty quickly; his action figure certainly wasn’t the easiest to find.) At times, it seems like Driver is conducting an experiment to see just how much of his Star Wars credit line he can spend, with only the occasional minor commercial foray like 65 to tide over any demand for a more popcorn-friendly vehicle. But some of this experiment enabled by the perception that he’s a big, big star; his talented Star Wars scene partner Daisy Ridley, for example, obviously has a similar taste for making “real” (non-franchise movies), and has to make do with a smaller scale of them, whether the Disney family drama Young Woman and the Sea, or the upcoming chamber-noir Magpie.

The question – less for armchair financial analysts than fans of Driver’s astonishing run – is whether anyone will start counting his commercial flops as blemishes on his credit report, so to speak. Part of the thrill of his appearance in Megalopolis comes from the fact that he wanted to help get the damn thing made; Coppola self-financed the project but clearly needed some names to have even a prayer of selling off the rights. Driver almost certainly helps the likes of Jarmusch and Baumbach get projects going; will he still have that juice after another decade?

Honestly, he might. Stardom has always been a nebulous calculation, moreso now that the lines between movies, TV, and social media have blurred. Driver seems like a star precisely because he mostly does ambitious movies with name directors; look at how minor and trifling a Brad Pitt/George Clooney team-up like Wolfs can wind up feeling without the proper buzz. Driver has also managed to avoid the seeming addiction some stars feel to the rush of popular approval; Tom Cruise and Denzel Washington are stars (and actors) for the ages, but they’ve certainly spent a fair amount of time doing brand maintenance for the fans. This is one place where Hollywood traditionalism can be flipped to some creative advantage: If financers haven’t caught up to the fact that Adam Driver doesn’t guarantee much return on investment, then let it ride, and enjoy the fruits of his labor. He may not sell tickets, but he’s firmly established in the cluuuub.

Jesse Hassenger (@rockmarooned) is a writer living in Brooklyn. He’s a regular contributor to The A.V. Club, Polygon, and The Week, among others. He podcasts at www.sportsalcohol.com, too.