A long-time reader Chris V. (since 2012!) sent me to this WSJ article on airline ratings (link).
The key chart form is this:

It's a rhombus shaped chart, really a bar chart rotated counter-clockwise by 45 degrees. Thus, all the text is at 45 degree angles. An airplane icon is imprinted on each bar.
There is also this cute interpretation of the white (non-data-ink) space as a symmetric reflection of the bars (with one missing element). On second thought, the decision to tilt the chart was probably made in service of this quasi-symmetry. If the data bars were horizontal, then the white space would have been sliced up into columns, which just doesn't hold the same appeal.
If we be Tuftian, all of these flourishes do not serve the data. But do they do much harm? This is a case that's harder to decide. The data consist of just a ranking of airlines. The message still comes across. The head must tilt, but the chart beguiles.
***
As the article progresses, the same chart form shows up again and again, with added layers of detail. I appreciate how the author has constructed the story. Subtly, the first chart teaches the readers how the graphic encodes the data, and fills in contextual information such as there being nine airlines in the ranking table.
In the second section, the same chart form is used, while the usage has evolved. There are now a pair of these rhombuses. Each rhombus shows the rankings of a single airline while each bar inside the rhombus shows the airline's ranking on a specific metric. Contrast this with the first chart, where each bar is an airline, and the ranking is the overall ranking on all metrics.

You may notice that you've used a piece of knowledge picked up from the first chart - that on each of these metrics, each airline has been ranked against eight others. Without that knowledge, we don't know that being 4th is just better than the median. So, in a sense, this second section is dependent on the first chart.
There is a nice use of layering, which links up both charts. A dividing line is drawn between the first place (blue) and not being first (gray). This layering allows us to quickly see that Delta, the overall winner, came first in two of the seven metrics while Southwest, the second-place airline, came first in three of the seven (leaving two metrics for which neither of these airlines came first).
I'd be the first to admit that I have motion sickness. I wonder how many of you are starting to feel dizzy while you read the labels, heads tilted. Maybe you're trying, like me, to figure out the asterisks and daggers.
***
Ironically, but not surprisingly, the asterisks reveal a non-trivial matter. Asterisks direct readers to footnotes, which should be supplementary text that adds color to the main text without altering its core meaning. Nowadays, asterisks may hide information that changes how one interprets the main text, such as complications that muddy the main argument.
Here, the asterisks address a shortcoming of representing ranking using bars. By convention, lower ranking indicates better, and most ranking schemes start counting from 1. If ranks are directly encoded in bars, then the best object is given the shortest bar. But that's not what we see on the chart. The bars actually encode the reverse ranking so the longest bar represents the lowest ranking.
That's level one of this complication. Level two is where these asterisks are at.
Notice that the second metric is called "Canceled flights". The asterisk quipped "fewest". The data collected is on the number of canceled flights but the performance metric for the ranking is really "fewest canceled flights".
If we see a long bar labelled "1st" under "canceled flights", it causes a moment of pause. Is the airline ranked first because it had the most canceled flights? That would imply being first is worst for this category. It couldn't be that. So perhaps "1st" means having the fewest canceled flights but then it's just weird to show that using the longest bar. The designer correctly anticipates this moment of pause, and that's why the chart has those asterisks.
Unfortunately, six out of the seven metrics require asterisks. In almost every case, we have to think in reverse. "Extreme delays" really mean "Least extreme delays"; "Mishandled baggage" really mean "Less mishandled baggage"; etc. I'd spend some time renaming the metrics to try to fix this avoiding footnotes. For example, saying "Baggage handling" instead of "mishandled baggage" is sufficient.
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The third section contains the greatest details. Now, each chart prints the ranking of nine airlines for a particular metric.

By now, the cuteness faded while the neck muscles paid. Those nice annotations, written horizontally, offered but a twee respite.