The Daughter of Twenty Faces was one of the shows I ignored at the start of last season – nothing distinctive, poor reception, didn’t bother. Anyway, over time I became aware that it had quite a few fans, so I gave it a chance, and was well rewarded. Having failed to write about Twenty Faces at the time I was getting to grips with it, I’m now in a slightly different position. Basically, I think it’s lost its way a bit. Here I go over what I like about the show, why I’ll be watching it anyway. Next post I get nitpicky about the more recent arc.

It’s a story about a little girl and a trickster – and the major trick played early on is making you think he’s just a plottish trickster. A disguise here, an audacious getaway there, whatever suits the action. It’s a set up before Twenty Faces produces his vanishing act, and starts playing merry hell with our expectations.

Well, to be blunt, the first trick the series pulled was just looking shoddy, looking like it had nothing to offer. Twenty Faces himself made a camply absurd entrance, the faintly pointless “Tiger” character got in the way, the police shot their pistols like missing was the whole damn point, and the sudden close bond with Chiko came out of nowhere. But then…well, not all that quickly, but then things got better.

In those happy first few capers there’s still one too many betrayals by a supposed ally, one too many acts of selfless thievery from bad people. But for all that, the show had me on board without playing any tricks or showing much ambition. What’s the spirit which animates this simple adventure, makes it more satisfying than that opening episode suggested?

The visual composition and in adventuring style reminds me of, amongst other things, Belgian comicbook Tintin. Where every scheme works perfectly, every chance encounter happens, every trap is sprung. Aunts are evil, villains are villainous, thieves are charming. Frankly, none of these are normally good things, but I was enjoying them. I think the setting was a big factor.

The setting is a kind of amalgamation of two post-wars, the confused interwar years with hints of early cold war technology in the mix. A Japanese fantasy of the western colonial period spirit that throws in giant tanks and mechanical men wherever it suits the writers. The world is your oyster, airships in motion can carry you away. It’s wonderful and impossible, but honest in intention – devoid of slight of hand. All about exploration and opportunity.

The obviousness in the plotting is linked to the cinematic connotations of the setting, the visual evocation of this period. You could say that The Daughter of Twenty Faces is truly based in a film set. In the world of half-remembered old action specials released back in some distant year before I was born. The past as we still dream of it. It’s a world you can see in the Indiana Jones films. Except Chiko’s story isn’t about whips and wisecracks at all.

Keep aware, think for yourself, that’s our heroine – the one who reads the game. The modern world’s hero is sharp and self-aware, and breeding a generation of people who are human but more individual. Chiko offers the appeal of the sensible, the rational companion. Like Maka the geek who can’t quite be so foolishly dedicated as her comrades, or the blankslate Kaiba mirroring our reactions to a baffling world. Where some shows would use that sense of place and time as the launching point for an ecstatic ramble, The Daughter of Twenty Faces is connected to the fundamental appeal of the style – the inclusive appeal of the adventure.

The series plays at escape from leaden realities. That sense of liberation is all over the glorious ED. It’s slicker, faster, cheesier than what preceded it. And that ED in some ways parallels the capering period of the show – a side of Twenty Faces which is imperfect but fun. After all, Chiko is no genius, not a master of any magical tricks or scientific godhood. She’s just always thinking for herself, and always aware of what she knows – we enjoy accompanying her in delving into a storyworld.

Haruhi wanted to live the interesting life of fictional heroes to assert her individuality, in Chiko the old indoors life was where authority figures poisoned her. After experiencing the world of her books, she returns to living in a big old house – only now she knows how to take on the world, what kind of person becomes more than a victim, a mark. It’s the point at which the spirit of adventure is passed from the setting to the protagonist. That’s the detective girl, embodiment of everything good about the story.

Being aware is of course about more than the obvious, and the show moves spectacularly into the realm of the trick. The Daughter of Twenty Faces is really great when it sets up a trajectory – a caper, a mystical evil, then moves the plot just a tad too fast for the eye to follow, makes us chase it. Thing is, the show still lacks perfect dialogue, art, and animation. The direction is oh so obvious in most every frame, and often clunky in execution. You can imagine the BONES canteen – the animators of Soul Eater and Xam’d must snigger at the guys churning out this perfectly decent series. My budget is bigger than yours. You still using that same old OP?

The biggest trick the show played on me is evident in this feeling of nostalgia for something I only picked up a couple of months ago. It’s the trick every series needs, of welcoming us to a new world – and really, it’s about the story, not the budget. The early stages of The Daughter of Twenty Faces succeeds in creating that sense of involvement, and I think it’s the way the cast and setting combine in creating an atmosphere which makes the series work.