I just want to feel really excited again about the MCU — not cautiously optimistic all the time.

Somewhere along the way, keeping up with Marvel TV on Disney+ started to feel more like obligation than anticipation. So much so that I skipped Agatha All Along without much thought. Wonder Man was headed down the same path. Another Marvel Spotlight project I assumed I could safely ignore.

Then a weekend plan didn’t push through. I suddenly had time. And after coming off a personal binge streak that included The Copenhagen Test on HBO Max and Steal on Prime Video in the weeks prior, I pressed play on Wonder Man without much expectation.

That might have been the best way to watch it.

What I got was a pleasant surprise. Not a reinvention of the MCU. Not a must-watch cultural moment. Just a grounded, character-driven show that reminded me why this universe can still work when it stops trying so hard to be loud.

Simon Williams and the problem with overthinking

(Center) Simon Williams/Wonder Man (Yahya Adbul-Mateen II) in Marvel Television’s WONDER MAN, exclusively on Disney+. Photo courtesy of Marvel Television. © 2025 MARVEL.

Simon Williams is introduced doing something deceptively simple: rehearsing.

He’s given a scene. He offers notes. Thoughtful ones, at first. Then more. And more. Until the production team’s patience wears thin. In that moment, Simon isn’t framed as misunderstood genius. He’s framed as difficult. A little exhausting. And kind of a pain to work with.

Simon’s biggest obstacle isn’t a villain or a grand conspiracy. It’s his inability to get out of his own head. He intellectualizes emotion. He wants specificity where instinct would do. And he tries to control the performance instead of trusting it.

What Wonder Man does right is that this flaw doesn’t disappear after one heartfelt conversation. It keeps coming up. Again and again. Sometimes he improves. Sometimes he backslides. Often, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Character development arcs don’t happen in an instant. That’s why they’re arcs to begin with. The show understands that, and it lets Simon’s growth feel gradual, uneven, and frustrating in the way real personal change usually is.

The Doorman and the cost of power

Episode four, titled The Doorman, is where the show quietly proves how smart it can be.

It’s a largely self-contained story that explains why superpowered individuals are barred from acting in the first place. What could have been a throwaway rule becomes a fully realized backstory. We see the incident, understand the fallout, and feel the ripple effects.

And suddenly, the ban isn’t arbitrary. It’s policy born from consequence.

This episode does more than justify a plot device. It adds another layer to a world where superpowers exist alongside unions, contracts, and liability insurance. It reminds you that in the MCU, enhanced individuals don’t just fight aliens. They disrupt industries, create legal gray areas, and leave scars.

The Doorman doesn’t rely on spectacle. It relies on context. And in doing so, it deepens the stakes of Simon’s struggle in a way that feels earned.

Watching as a casual fan

I’ll be upfront: I don’t know Wonder Man from the comics.

I came into this with general MCU familiarity and nothing else. No expectations about power sets. No attachment to comic lore. And honestly, that worked in the show’s favor.

If there are deep comic references here, they never get in the way of the story being told. Wonder Man plays just fine as a character piece first and a Marvel project second, which makes it easier to recommend to anyone who doesn’t feel like doing homework.

Trevor Slattery, recontextualized

There’s something quietly poetic about Trevor Slattery’s role in this story.

Here’s a man who gained notoriety by pretending to be powerful. Now, he’s mentoring an actor who is powerful but trying to hide it.

Trevor, of course, is best known for the controversial Mandarin twist in Iron Man 3. At the time, many fans felt shortchanged. Over the years, the MCU slowly reframed that decision, most notably in Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, where Trevor was given consequence and context.

Wonder Man might be where the character finally feels fully at home.

Bringing Trevor back not as a punchline but as a mentor is a clever use of a once-maligned character. He understands performance and  deception. He understands what it means to survive by playing a role. By the end of the show, he’s not just tolerable — he’s genuinely endearing.

An unlikely pairing that works

Much of Wonder Man plays like a low-key buddy comedy.

Trevor is a seasoned actor who’s already been burned by the superpowered reality of this world. Simon is an enhanced individual trying desperately to live a normal creative life within it. Their banter carries the show. Their conversations feel lived-in rather than scripted for punchlines.

Trevor’s advice to Simon is simple: get out of your head. Be in the moment. Stop hiding who you are.

But the show wisely doesn’t let those words land all at once. They take time. Fail. And repeat. Somewhere along the way, Trevor himself changes too. What begins as a deal with the Department of Damage Control slowly turns into genuine concern for Simon’s growth, even if it costs Trevor his easy way out.

That shift sells the relationship.

Grounding the MCU, one small story at a time

Stories like this help ground a universe where an alien once snapped half of existence away, only for time travel to undo the damage in Avengers: Endgame.

There’s no undo button here.

Whether the stakes are multiversal or minute, actions have consequences. Consequences that can’t be erased — only learned from, in the hope that the next decision leads to a better outcome. Wonder Man lives in that space. It doesn’t try to escalate. It tries to observe. That restraint is refreshing.

Where it stumbles

For all its strengths, Wonder Man does feel like it’s missing an episode.

Simon’s eventual control over his emotions — and by extension, his abilities — is implied more than it’s shown. The pieces are there, but a few connective scenes feel absent. One more episode focused squarely on that internal breakthrough could have made the arc feel more complete.

It doesn’t ruin the experience, but it’s noticeable.

A quiet reminder of why this can still work

Ultimately, Wonder Man isn’t about saving the world. It’s about learning to stop shrinking yourself in it.

It’s about being present. About embracing your strengths instead of hiding from them. About letting yourself exist without constantly managing how you’re perceived.

I didn’t go into this expecting to care. I came out glad that I did.

And for the first time in a while, it reminded me that the MCU can still surprise me — not by being bigger, but by being smaller.