MARVEL'S “WONDER MAN” AIN'T YOUR MAMA'S DISNEY+ SUPERHERO SHOW

Wonder Man ain’t your mama’s Disney+ Marvel show. And—crucially—it’s also not like the Disney+ Marvel shows that were marketed as not like other Disney+ Marvel shows before quietly morphing into a blur of VFX clouds, airborne punching, and a last-minute reminder that you should probably be excited for the next MCU movie. (Hello, WandaVision) That alone would’ve made Wonder Man notable. But what makes it genuinely good is everything else: smart casting, writing that trusts its jokes, scenes that breathe, and characters who feel like people instead of lore dispensers. It’s a superhero show that doesn’t strain to announce its depth. It simply assumes you’re capable of noticing it on your own.

*MILD SPOILERS FOR "WONDER MAN" FROM THIS POINT

Everyone's Tired of Superheroes.

At the center of all this is Simon Williams, a second-generation Haitian American actor stuck in that deeply cursed zone between “I swear something's about to happen for me” and “oh no, what if it doesn't.” Played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Simon is talented but self-sabotaging. He's a working day player whose overthinking and occasional selfishness keep getting in the way of his own momentum. When we meet him, he’s having one of those days that feels cosmically rude: he gets fired from an episode of American Horror Story (a show that famously doesn't demand emotional stability), his ex-girlfriend, Vivian (played by a completely wasted Olivia Thirlby), is moving out of their apartment, and his carefully maintained sense of potential is cracking in real time.

In a moment of lonely, cinephile instinct, Simon wanders into a repertory screening of Midnight Cowboy where he meets Trevor Slattery (member him?). Because Simon is exactly the kind of actor who can quote performances chapter and verse, he immediately fanboys over Trevor’s pre-Mandarin career, rattling off deep cuts with the enthusiasm of someone who still believes the right role could change everything. Trevor, flattered and bored in equal measure, takes Simon under his wing, offering advice, war stories, and the kind of old-Hollywood mentorship that feels increasingly extinct. Trevor also lets Simon in on an audition for Wonder Man (very meta), a remake of an ’80s movie that happened to be Simon’s late father’s favorite—and the film that first made him want to act. From that point on, Simon becomes convinced the role is his birthright. (Isn't that what every actor thinks?) The two form a quick, mutually beneficial bond, each hoping the other might be the key to reviving a stalled career.

Of course, both men are keeping secrets. Simon is quietly dealing with unstable ionic powers that flare up whenever his frustration spikes. And Trevor, it turns out, is reluctantly working undercover for the US Department of Damage Control, under the watchful eye of Agent Cleary (played by Arian Moayed), tasked with keeping tabs on Simon even as he’s helping him prepare for the role of a lifetime.

When superpowers enter the picture, Wonder Man wisely refuses to treat them like a gift from the universe. They don’t fix Simon’s problems. They mostly just amplify everything he was already dealing with: ego, insecurity, longing, and the creeping fear that being special still might not be enough. Which feels right.

Simon Williams, Reading for Wonder Man.

Structurally, the show moves like a backstage comedy with a superhero problem. We get auditions, rehearsals, petty rivalries, professional jealousy, and old wounds reopening at inconvenient times all unfolding alongside enhanced abilities and MCU-adjacent weirdness.

The show understands—better than most—that fame and heroism really aren’t that different. Both require confidence. Both demand a performance. And both are brutally unforgiving if you hesitate too long.

Abdul-Mateen is doing some of his most relaxed and appealing work here. He captures Williams’ external fragility and internal pain with care. Williams’ adult stunting is a result of his self-isolation and repression of his abilities following two traumatic childhood events. The approach is fairly sympathetic. And the second-generation Haitian experience, while detailed and precise, feels universal.

Then there’s Ben Kingsley as Trevor Slattery, who shows up with the energy of someone who knows exactly what kind of show he’s in; He's having a great time. Trevor's still ridiculous, but Wonder Man lets him be more than a punchline. Here, he becomes a weirdly effective sounding board for Simon. He's a man who once faked his way into relevance and somehow never left. And Kingsley plays Trevor with warmth and just enough sincerity to make their relationship feel real. Together, Simon and Trevor form the emotional backbone of the series—a classic buddy-comedy spirit with both charming charisma and clever banter and emotional turning points that feel totally earned.

I'm Trying to Come Up With a Backstory for My Character.

Tonally, Wonder Man is light on its feet. It’s chatty. Observant. And when action does show up, it’s refreshingly intimate. That said, the show doesn’t dodge every familiar Marvel—especially Disney-Marvel—issue. Several of the female characters remain frustratingly underwritten, which feels especially glaring given the presence of Olivia Thirlby, who's given virtually nothing to actually do. And while Wonder Man is adult enough to let its characters curse, it still relies on the genre’s favorite shortcut: superpowers as a stand-in for innate specialness.

Still, by the time you reach the finale, those shortcomings feel forgivable. The season ends by pushing character arcs forward instead of trying to out-CGI itself, which is a small miracle in this universe. More than any live-action Marvel series Disney+ has produced so far, Wonder Man pulls off what Netflix did with Jessica Jones and FX did with Legion—just without the heaviness. You don’t have to care about superheroes as a concept to care about what’s happening here. The show gives you a reason to keep watching that has nothing to do with easter-eggs and everything to do with people.

It also arrives at a moment when Hollywood-set stories are everywhere, suggesting that writers have started taking “write what you know” extremely seriously. On paper, Wonder Man risks blending into that pile, especially so soon after Apple TV+’s The Studio's awards season sweep. The show even jokes about it: one of Simon’s rivals for the Wonder Man role introduces himself as “Paul Thomas Anderson’s surfing instructor.”

So, yes, the meta- lane is crowded but Wonder Man doesn’t seem especially interested in competing. Instead, it fully invests in the messy, affectionate push-and-pull between Simon and Trevor. And that dynamic is what keeps the show grounded, even when it drifts.

A Superhero Remake. Not Exactly What We'd Expect from an Oscar Winning Director.

Within the broader orbit of Marvel Studios, Wonder Man feels comfortable doing its own thing. And by the end, it settles into something genuinely charming, funny, a little melancholy, and deeply interested in what it means to want more from your life without knowing exactly what that “more” is supposed to look like.

Characters this enjoyable to hang out with are rare in any genre. That Wonder Man pulls it off while juggling Hollywood satire, superhero mechanics, and the existential coming-of-age arc of finding success doesn’t feel like a trick. It just feels confident. And honestly? That confidence might be its best superpower.

4.75/5 ★: Not like any other series in the franchise—in the best possible way.