
Marvel’s “Wonder Man” Proves Superhero Stories Work Best When Powers Become Problems
“Wonder Man,” the new Marvel Studios series, originated from the most unlikely source: an on-set joke. During production of “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings,” director Destin Daniel Cretton casually suggested to a producer that Trevor Slattery—the hapless actor played brilliantly by Oscar winner Ben Kingsley—deserved his own streaming series. The art department playfully mocked up a poster titled “Trevor Goes to Hollywood,” and suddenly, what began as creative banter transformed into genuine possibility.
“And I was like, now we have to figure out how to do this show,” Cretton revealed, capturing that magical moment when inspiration crystallizes into commitment.

Marvel had already been developing a Hollywood-set series centered on Simon Williams, the character who becomes Wonder Man. In comic canon, Simon is a wealthy industrialist-turned-superhero who moonlights as a movie star. But Kevin Feige, Marvel Studios’ chief architect, wanted something radically different: What if Simon—portrayed here by the magnetic Yahya Abdul-Mateen II—was fundamentally an actor who happened to possess superpowers?
The genius twist? Those abilities aren’t assets but obstacles.
“What if we made the superpowers his problem,” explained Brad Winderbaum, Marvel’s television overseer. Rather than another spectacle of superhuman combat, Simon’s powers become “the impediment to doing what he loves, which is acting.” It’s character-driven storytelling disguised in spandex—exactly what fatigued audiences desperately need.

Pairing this reimagined Simon with Kingsley’s Trevor—first introduced in “Iron Man 3” as a desperate libertine who impersonated a terrorist mastermind for acting work—creates irresistible chemistry. These two performers, both obsessed with finding truth in their craft, navigate increasingly complicated secrets while trying to maintain their burgeoning friendship.
Here’s where “Wonder Man” transcends typical superhero fare: the secret-keeping eclipses the secrets themselves. For two individuals devoted to authenticity in performance, maintaining their respective acts becomes exponentially harder than anticipated. Their friendship grounds the narrative in genuine emotional stakes rather than CGI spectacle.
This investment in character relationships over explosive action sequences addresses superhero fatigue head-on. The bromance between Simon and Trevor isn’t window dressing—it’s the structural foundation. When superhero entertainment feels exhaustingly repetitive, “Wonder Man” demonstrates that sometimes reinvention requires stripping away expectations entirely.
Marvel proves once again that genre reinvention doesn’t demand abandoning what works—just examining it from unexpected angles. Sometimes all you need is one killer bromance to remind audiences why they fell in love with these stories originally.

