Which Tintin Characters Have Dedicated Action Figures?

If you wander through comic fairs or online auction listings long enough, you start to notice the same faces keep stealing the spotlight. For me, the top three collector darlings are Tintin, Snowy (Milou), and Captain Haddock—each for very different, very collectible reasons. Tintin is the icon: first editions of 'Tintin in the Congo' or the early Casterman prints of 'The Crab with the Golden Claws' still make veteran collectors gasp when they appear, and original Hergé pages or signed copies will always command a premium. Snowy is small but endlessly popular—vintage pewter or celluloid figures and original promotional pieces featuring him are cute, compact, and surprisingly valuable in good condition. Captain Haddock has that personality collectors crave: a great face sculpt, iconic sweater, and a rich rogues' gallery to tie him to (bottles, naval props, the Marlinspike Hall pieces). After those three, Professor Calculus (Tryphon Tournesol) and the bumbling detective duo Thomson and Thompson (Dupont et Dupond) are next on most wishlists—especially limited-run resin statues or original art panels showing their slapstick. Villains like Red Rackham, Rastapopoulos, and Chang (from 'The Blue Lotus') also pop up as high-value items when tied to unique prints or signed sketches. If you’re hunting, remember condition and provenance matter more than character popularity. A rarer side character in pristine condition with paperwork can outsell a beaten-up Tintin figure. I love trawling auctions and flea markets for mismarked pieces—sometimes the misprints and foreign-language editions are the real hidden gems.

I’ve always loved digging into the little backstage secrets of comics, and with 'The Adventures of Tintin' there’s a whole tradition of Hergé borrowing faces and traits from real life. He rarely copied a single person wholesale; instead he stitched together looks and attitudes from friends, famous figures and oddballs he’d spotted in newspapers or on the street. For example, many historians point out that Professor Calculus (Prof. Tournesol) visually echoes the Swiss explorer-scientist Auguste Piccard — that round forehead and goggles vibe — while his absent-minded, brilliant temperament is a more general caricature of eccentric inventors. Captain Haddock is less a single model than a composite: Hergé picked up mannerisms from real sailors and blustering drinkers he’d met, then exaggerated them into that glorious torrent of curses and emotion we all adore. The shady tycoon Rastapopoulos smells like an amalgam of Hollywood moguls and shipping magnates (think of the Onassis-type stereotype), shaped into a recurring villain. Hergé also loved cameos: he and friends sometimes pop up in background panels, and public figures of the era show up as thinly veiled influences in dictators and politicians across the books. If you want deeper dives, I like the essays in 'Tintin and the World of Hergé' and a visit to the Hergé Museum — seeing the original sketches makes those real-life inspirations jump off the page. It’s the blend of real-life observation and Hergé’s imagination that makes the cast feel so alive to me.

I get asked this kind of trivia a lot when people and I get deep-diving into Hergé's world over coffee or while flipping through old paperbacks. Short version: Hergé never really spun off his supporting cast into fully independent, ongoing comic series the way some modern franchises do. There aren’t official, standalone comic-book series titled for Captain Haddock or Professor Calculus issued by Hergé himself. Instead, what he did was write some Tintin albums that strongly spotlight a supporting character — so they feel almost like solo stories even though Tintin is usually still in the picture. For example, 'The Castafiore Emerald' reads like a Bianca Castafiore-centric farce, and 'Red Rackham’s Treasure' is practically Captain Haddock’s origin arc with Tintin in more of a co-lead role. Professor Calculus gets big moments in books like 'The Calculus Affair', and the bumbling detectives Thomson and Thompson show up in many short, gag-heavy sequences that could be clipped into their own sketches. Beyond Hergé’s original albums, fans and creators have produced pastiches and tributes that put characters in solo scenarios, and adaptations (the TV series, radio plays, stage bits) sometimes emphasize a character over Tintin. So if you’re looking for genuine, canonical solo series from Hergé himself — there aren’t any — but there are plenty of near-solo stories and modern works that scratch that itch.

As a longtime fan who watches animated adaptations with way too much popcorn, I loved spotting which characters from the comics made it into Steven Spielberg’s motion-capture movie 'The Adventures of Tintin'. The core crew is all here: Tintin himself and his faithful dog Snowy (Milou), Captain Haddock (and his drunken, stubborn charm), and the bumbling detective duo Thomson and Thompson. The film also brings in the villainous Ivan Sakharine and the historical threads tied to Sir Francis Haddock and the pirate Red Rackham — the flashback/ship sequences lean heavily on those figures. Beyond those mains, you get a handful of supporting faces and ensembles adapted from the stories that feed into the movie: Nestor (the butler/house staff at Marlinspike), various sailors and pirates from the La Licorne scenes, and the little antique/model-ship sellers and bidders who kick off the mystery. The movie stitches together parts of 'The Crab with the Golden Claws', 'The Secret of the Unicorn', and 'Red Rackham's Treasure', so expect characters that matter to those plots even if some appear only briefly onscreen. Watching it felt like skimming through a best-of montage — lots of familiar beats and cameos for fans, plus a few surprises for new viewers.

Casting choices have a huge ripple effect on how 'Tintin' characters read on screen, and I've always loved noticing those ripples. In the early live-action films like 'Tintin and the Golden Fleece' and 'Tintin and the Blue Oranges', the producers cast a boy who looked like the drawn Tintin—Jean-Pierre Talbot—so the emphasis was on visual faithfulness and a simple, wholesome energy. That choice made Tintin feel very literal, very static in personality: he was the clean-cut, earnest reporter the comics showed, but the non-professional acting meant the emotional range stayed narrow compared to later adaptations. Fast-forward to Spielberg's 'The Adventures of Tintin' and casting shifts the emphasis. Jamie Bell brought a youthful physicality and curiosity that leaned into action-hero moves more than investigative reporting. Andy Serkis didn't just voice Haddock; his motion-capture work added slurred timbre, stumbling physicality, and a tragic depth that comics implied but rarely dramatized. Casting known faces like Daniel Craig, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost did more than sell tickets: it changed comic relief timing, made villains sharper, and sometimes consolidated multiple book villains into one recognizable actor, which streamlines storytelling but also alters nuance. The result is a Tintin world that turns comic panels into lived-in people, sometimes at the cost of the quieter, ambiguous edges of Hergé's originals. Beyond individual performances, modern casting decisions also reflect cultural shifts: some racialized or colonial portrayals from older comics are downplayed or reshaped, and accents get adjusted to be less stereotypical. Directors also pick actors who can carry motion-capture or the stunt-heavy choreography, so characters become more physically expressive. For me, that trade-off mostly works—it's exciting to see Haddock's demons played so vividly—though I sometimes miss the slower sleuthing and comic timing of the books.

I get a little thrill tracing obscure faces back to their comic-book debuts—it's like playing detective through Hergé's panels. A lot of the lesser-known characters in the Tintin universe first show up scattered across the 24 original albums, so there’s no single place to check: early, middle and late albums all introduce one-offs, recurring bit-players, and characters who'd later pop up again in surprising ways. If you want a quick roadmap, some of the albums that seed lots of side characters are 'Cigars of the Pharaoh', 'The Crab with the Golden Claws', 'King Ottokar's Sceptre', and 'The Secret of the Unicorn'/'Red Rackham's Treasure' pair; they were fertile ground for Hergé to drop in both villains and quirky citizens. If you're cataloguing first appearances, I always start with a couple of go-to resources: the official bibliographies and the generous fan wikis that list each character’s debut album, and the Hergé Museum materials which sometimes point out early sketches and prototypes. For example, a major recurring villain shows up as early as 'Cigars of the Pharaoh', while figures linked to Marlinspike Hall tend to appear around 'The Secret of the Unicorn' and 'Red Rackham's Treasure'. So, in practice, when someone mentions a lesser-known name, I flip to the index of the album or a wiki entry and usually find a panel number or story chapter where they first speak or act. It’s a simple ritual for me: tea, the comic, and a little sleuthing through the gutters—pure joy.

I still get a little giddy thinking about tallying every face Hergé drew in 'The Adventures of Tintin'. If you mean 'how many distinct characters show up across the whole series', there's no single official number — Hergé didn't publish a cast list with totals — so I like to break it down by how strict you want to be. If you count only the recurring, named cast (the ones who pop up in multiple books or are clearly developed), you're probably looking at something in the neighborhood of 60–100 characters: Tintin, Snowy, Captain Haddock, Professor Calculus, Thompson and Thomson, Bianca Castafiore, Rastapopoulos, the various policemen, and a handful of recurring villains and allies. Those are the faces that stick with you and get personality arcs. If you expand the scope to every named character who appears even once across the 24 albums (including the posthumous 'Tintin and Alph-Art' material), the number climbs substantially — I'd estimate roughly 300–400 unique, named characters. That comes from averaging perhaps 12–20 named individuals per album plus the recurring cast, though the exact count shifts depending on whether you count alternate names, translations, or very minor named locals. Finally, if you were being hyper-inclusive and counted unnamed background figures, extras, sailors, soldiers, townsfolk, and crowd cameos, you'd easily push into the 600–800 range, because Hergé packed scenes with crowds and unique faces. My suggestion if you want a precise tally: use a dedicated fan wiki or the 'Tintin' comic transcripts and do a name-extraction pass — tedious but fun for a rainy weekend. I love thinking about it because it shows how rich Hergé's world is: a few core personalities and a whole rotating cast that make each story feel lived-in.

Growing up binging the comics on rainy afternoons, I always paid attention to who brought these characters to life in English – the two big productions people usually mean are the 2011 motion-capture film and the early ’90s animated TV series. In the Spielberg/Jackson movie 'The Adventures of Tintin' (2011) the main English-language voices were Jamie Bell as Tintin and Andy Serkis as Captain Haddock. The film also leaned on some familiar British names: Simon Pegg and Nick Frost provided the bumbling twin detectives (Thomson and Thompson) and Daniel Craig voiced the movie's antagonist, Sakharine. Those performances have a distinctly cinematic, naturalistic feel compared with older cartoon dubs. If you go back to the 1990s animated adaptation — the Ellipse/Nelvana co-production also titled 'The Adventures of Tintin' — the English cast was a largely Canadian/UK ensemble led by Colin O'Meara as Tintin and David Fox as Captain Haddock, with a rotating group of voice actors covering other recurring roles. That series is the one most fans who grew up in the ’90s remember fondly because it stays pretty faithful to the comics' tone. Different English-speaking regions sometimes used alternate dubs, so credits can vary, but those are the main English names I see referenced most often, and they shaped how a generation heard Tintin and Haddock.