I’ve watched a lot of Marvel’s universe over the past few years, lulled in by the play on different TV genres in WandaVision, curiously and cluelessly stumbling through Loki’s transformation in his self-titled series—is he a tree now?—and utterly baffled by Agatha All Along: was the Road even real?
So when Wonder Man came along, I wasn’t expecting much. But there was something about watching Simon Williams that kept me coming back episode after episode. Here was a man who simply wanted to pursue his passion for acting, yet found himself hindered by what many would consider his greatest asset: his superpowered secret. To survive on a daily basis, Simon was code-switching, hiding his powers so he could fit into the world around him. Brilliantly and subtly played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, he received an Emmy nomination this year for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series for the role.
We got to peek inside Wonder Man’s family, witnessing a proud and successful Haitian-American household living its slice of our nation’s dream. That representation feels even more significant now, as some Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio, have reportedly been summoned for ICE check-ins and fitted with ankle monitors following the loss of their Temporary Protected Status.
I also loved that the series showcased Black male vulnerability. Simon knew he possessed the power to save the world, yet feared how revealing that power would affect his life and those around him. The bond of male friendship was also on display. I’ve personally experienced how my own friends are willing to protect me at almost any cost; watching Trevor Slattery take the fall for Simon offered a touching portrait of male loyalty that I, as a woman who grew up in a predominantly female household, have rarely witnessed among men. Trevor publicly accepted responsibility for the explosion that Simon caused, sacrificing his own freedom to protect his friend.
I was pleased when the show was renewed, knowing I would get to engage with this world for another round. I wanted to see Simon find a way to accept his gift and finally believe every side of himself could be welcomed and embraced.
Learning that the show has now been canceled has raised questions about Marvel’s commitment to telling stories centered specifically on Black male superheroes, a very valid concern. But it also emphasizes losing a particular kind of hero: one who was allowed to be vulnerable, awkward and uncertain. One whose family life was steeped in culture. One who feared his gifts had to be hidden rather than displayed and respected.
Wonder Man told a superhero story that felt unexpectedly personal. And that is what I will miss most of all.