Best Star Wars Action Figures of 2026

Nine accessories on a figure the length of your thumb is the headline, and it's what separates this from a standard Vintage Collection release. The jetpack comes off, the exhaust flame plugs into it, and the EE-3 blaster is painted to match the armor rather than molded in one flat color. For 3.75-inch scale, that's a lot of display options in one box.

None of it matters if he won't stand, and he will. The Vintage Collection body has the joints to kneel, aim and hold a two-handed grip, which is more than we expect from this scale. It also makes him fussier to balance than a simple five-joint figure — all that articulation in a small body means a pose sometimes needs thirty seconds and a flat surface before it holds.

The deluxe treatment is why he asks more than the standard line, and it's the fairest way to decide. If you collect 3.75-inch, this is the Boba Fett to own and the extras justify the difference. If you collect 6-inch, he'll stand a head shorter than everything else and nothing here converts you. The special package artwork is worth keeping if he stays boxed.

Twenty-nine points of articulation reads like a spec-sheet boast until you handle the figure. Paz is a big, broad, armored body, and the joint count is the reason that bulk doesn't freeze him into one stance — he holds a braced firing position without keeling over, which the lighter figures here manage less reliably.

The jetpack is the detail we keep coming back to. It detaches, and the blaster mounted on it works as a separate weapon, so a single accessory gives you two displays instead of a static backpack. The molded grip takes the blaster cleanly too, which sounds like nothing until you've spent an evening with a rifle that won't stay put. Series-accurate deco on a supporting character is what makes a Mandalorian shelf look assembled rather than bought.

The window box is worth mentioning because it displays well sealed, and this is the figure in the group most likely to stay that way. He's a supporting character, which makes him a harder sell than a lead at any price. Build the scene he belongs in, though, and nothing else here holds a pose like he does.

A Clone Wars shelf without Rex has a hole in it, and this release fills it with six accessories — more than any other single 6-inch figure here. The helmet lifts off to show the head underneath, which sounds like a small thing until you've left a helmeted figure on a shelf for a year and stopped looking at it.

The armor is painted scuffed rather than clean, the right call for a character who's been at war since his first appearance, and the blue markings and tally marks worked into the plates are what make him read as Rex instead of another clone. He stands solidly and holds a two-handed grip, though the pauldron over his left shoulder limits how far that arm travels — we found the right arm doing most of the work in an aiming pose.

That shoulder doesn't cost much, because the poses you want from a clone captain are rifle-forward anyway. Six accessories and a removable helmet at the price of a standard Black Series release is the best accessory math in this guide, and pairing him with Darth Maul gets you the Siege of Mandalore in miniature.

The double-bladed lightsaber is the whole reason to own this figure, and it does the one thing a display piece needs to do: it gives you a choice. Blades on, he's a silhouette from across the room. Weapon off, he's a Sith standing with empty hands, which is how he looks best beside a Vader.

The rest of the figure earns the weapon. The head is the part people notice — the horn pattern and the tattoo work are painted clearly enough to read at arm's length, where a lot of faces in this scale turn into a smudge. The costume is simple, which helps: nothing hangs off him to fight the pose you set.

He's a display figure rather than a plaything, and one accessory where Rex gives you six is the trade. We accept it for the one figure in this group whose silhouette you can name from a doorway. If you want to act out a duel rather than look at one, buy Rex instead.

Three twelve-inch figures for roughly what one 6-inch collector figure costs is the math that keeps this set in the guide, and Vader, Maul and a stormtrooper cover the whole villain roster a kid actually asks for. It's the only pick here built for a five-year-old's hands.

The articulation is five points — neck, shoulders, hips — so elbows and knees don't bend, and these are for acting out scenes rather than recreating a movie still. That's not a shortcut on a figure this size aimed at this age: fewer joints means fewer things to snap, and the ones that are there move freely enough for a kid to work them without help.

Where the set earns its place is the ratio: three big figures and four accessories a young fan can actually grip, in one purchase that covers a birthday. They look better than they need to on a kid's shelf as well, with paint that reads at arm's length. This is the pick for a kid who wants to hold a Star Wars character in two hands, not study one under a lamp.

Nobody buys one Stormtrooper. The question is how many, and this is the release that makes a squad look right: the armor is glossy where the plates are, the undersuit beneath is matte, and the proportions line up with a Black Series Vader instead of sitting a head too tall beside one.

The articulation is why this version beats older troopers. Butterfly joints at the shoulders let the arms come forward and back beyond a straight swing, the neck is on a double ball joint so the helmet tilts as well as turns, and a two-handed blaster hold ends up looking natural instead of stiff. That's the pose you buy a stormtrooper for.

Start with one and check the paint before committing to a squad — that's how we built ours, and the value in this figure is duplication. Four of them in slightly different stances stops a shelf looking like a lineup of characters and starts it looking like a scene. It's the only figure here that improves when you buy it again.

Palpatine is the figure in this guide we pose least, and that's the point of him. He's a still, hooded shape, and the sculpt sells that better than it sells any kind of action — stand him at the end of a shelf with a Vader and the display gains somewhere for the eye to settle.

The face is where the Archive treatment pays off. The hood shadows a head that's clearly the movie Emperor rather than a generic old man, and the paint on the hands and the robe folds holds up beside the newer figures in this group, which isn't always true of a reissue.

Treat him as scenery rather than a toy. The joints are there, but the poses that suit him are standing ones, and a kid gets about ten minutes out of him before going back to the Mandalorian. For what he asks, that's a fair trade for the one figure here that makes a villain shelf look finished rather than populated.

The likeness is the reason to buy this one, and it's a strange thing to say about a figure from The Force Awakens rather than the original trilogy. The head carries the half smile, the nose is right in profile, and the grey in the hair is picked out rather than left flat. Set him beside a Black Series Vader and he reads as Harrison Ford, not as a generic smuggler.

He's also the cheapest figure in this guide, which makes him the low-risk way to find out whether you like the Archive line before committing to a shelf of them. He stands well, the joints hold a simple pose, and there's nothing fussy about him — one accessory to keep track of and a body that doesn't demand attention.

For a mixed shelf he's the human face that stops it looking like a helmet display, and the easiest figure here to add on a whim. We buy him for the head sculpt; if what you want is the classic vest and blaster, this isn't that Han.

Scale labels trip people up more on Chewbacca than on anything else here. Six-inch scale means the figure is built to stand with six-inch figures, not that it measures six inches, and a Wookiee should dwarf a stormtrooper. He stands well above the rest of a 6-inch shelf, and once you expect that, the proportions make sense.

The fur is where the sculpt earns its keep: it's cut in clumps rather than molded as one flat texture, so the silhouette reads as hair from across the room instead of a lumpy mass. The bandolier sits where it should, and the head turns far enough for him to look at whoever he's standing next to.

He's a supporting piece, and that's how we buy him: as the tall shape at the back that makes a shelf look inhabited rather than arranged. Put him behind Han or beside a Mandalorian and the scale reading clicks into place. A shelf of nothing but six-inch humans starts to look like a police lineup, and he fixes that in one purchase.