Surprisingly, probably the most iconic characteristic of an AT-ST is not the contour of the viewports or the design of the cannons or even the shape of the head or the spindliness of the legs, but the way it walks. That might explain why a lot of recreations in bricks, even though they get every detail and shape right, still feel a bit off compared to the original: they show a stander, not a walker. Rogue Bantha’s midi AT-ST, on the other foot, looks like it’s in the middle of some stop motion action. It’s wonderful how you can instantly picture the other frames in your head: the walker was patrolling the area until suddenly it spots something on its left; it puts its weight on its right foot and starts lifting its left foot to walk towards the trouble (you don’t want to know how much trouble it took me to get left and right correct on this one!). It almost feels as if the builder actually did some stop motion to arrive at just the right angle for every joint. The o so subtle angle of the hips and the lean of the legs really sell it, bringing the swaying hips of the original to mind, a feature you didn’t realize was so iconic and makes it feel so alive. Just look at any picture of an AT-ST that doesn’t look off, and you’ll spot those same features. Most builders would only look at reference pictures for the details and the shapes. But Rogue Bantha goes further. Yes, he succeeds in doing an awesome job on the shapes and details, with his impossible construction of the legs which is detailed, posable and structurally sound all at the same time, or with his expert mixing of new and old greys. But most importantly, he also looks at the reference pictures for the pose even though it’s a lifeless piece of metal we’re talking about here. That’s why his midi AT-ST is feet down the best of its kind.