Overcompensating: A Messy, Queer, Hilarious Crash Course in Self-Acceptance
The journey to self-acceptance is never a straight line (pun absolutely intended), and Benito Skinner’s Overcompensating makes sure we never forget it. In his semi-autobiographical comedy series, Skinner (aka internet icon Benny Drama) takes us on an outrageous, painfully relatable, and delightfully campy trip through the chaotic undergrad years of queer self-discovery. With eight episodes, each around 30 minutes long, this show doesn’t just make the grade—it throws the syllabus out the window and rewrites the curriculum.
But before we talk more in-depth about the show, let’s get this out of the way: Overcompensating isn’t for everyone. If you’re not already on board with Skinner’s distinct brand of comedy—a hybrid of high camp, absurd social critique, online satire, and perfectly timed pop culture references—this one might miss the mark. And that’s fine. Not every show needs to appeal to everyone. But if you’re willing to embrace the ridiculousness and lean into the chaos, you’ll find a surprisingly thoughtful and sharp comedy that uses humor as a lens for social criticism.
The premise is deceptively simple. Benny (Skinner) is a closeted former high school football star and homecoming king who enters college clinging to the straight-man persona he’s carefully crafted for years. On his first day at fictional Yates University (which feels like every East Coast campus rolled into one), he meets Carmen (Wally Baram), a fellow freshman desperate to leave her outsider status behind and determined to finally fit in. Their bond is instant, their chemistry undeniable, and their mutual awkwardness palpable. They even try dating (because of course they do), but quickly realize they’re both dealing with secrets bigger than your average dorm room drama. What could have been a classic “boy meets girl” setup becomes something a lot queerer, messier, and more meaningful.
But anygays, as Benny settles into his new college life, he is taken under Peter’s (Adam DiMarco) wing, a jock senior who happens to be dating Benny’s older sister, Grace (Mary Beth Barone). Through Peter’s endorsement, Benny gets a fast pass into Flesh & Gold, the Ivy-adjacent club for students who major in nepotism and minor in legacy wealth. The goal of this elite organization? Networking your way into success—no talent required. But this sudden spotlight comes with its own GPA (Gay Panic Accumulation), and Benny finds himself, well…overcompensating. The deeper he gets, the harder it becomes to maintain the act, and what follows is one of the most chaotic, messy, and hilarious coming-of-age journeys we’ve seen in a while.
The pressure to keep up appearances, especially when you’re denying who you really are, turns Benny’s life into a spectacular mess of denial, dysfunction, and, yes, disastrous Grindr meetups. From the very first scene—where a young Benny is transfixed by George of the Jungle (read: Brendan Fraser in a loincloth)—we know exactly where this is headed. Benny is very much gay, and the audience knows it. But Benny? Not so much. His denial runs deep, bolstered by years of internalized homophobia, repressed desire, and straight-passing behavior. And that’s exactly what makes his journey so compelling.
Through every flustered interaction with Miles (Rish Shah), every Megan Fox poster pep talk, and every failed hookup with women, Benny clings to his straight persona like it’s a campus meal plan he can’t cancel. He is so committed to his performance that the entire show becomes a brilliant exercise in the absurdity of pretending to be someone you’re not.
What Overcompensating does brilliantly is show just how exhausting and again, absurd that denial can be. The humor is Skinner’s signature: campy, fast-paced, referential, and self-aware. It turns Benny’s coming-of-age into a high-stakes improv class where the only rule is “Don’t Be Yourself.” His journey is hilariously convoluted, peppered with frat parties, fake IDs, flavored vodka, performative masculinity, and dorm-room existentialism.
As Benny stumbles through crushes, expectations, and identity crises, Overcompensating holds a mirror up to both the silliness of college life and the emotional toll of self-denial. Even in its most outlandish moments, there’s something raw and recognizable underneath. If you’ve ever tried to reinvent yourself in college only to realize you can’t outrun your own queerness, this one’s for you.
The performances are strong across the board. Skinner’s comedic style blends over-the-top performances with biting satire, and the supporting cast rises to the challenge. Baram is a standout as Carmen, both hilarious and heartbreakingly human. DiMarco fully embraces the role of Peter, delivering an exaggerated yet perfectly fitting performance that captures the essence of his character with both comedic flair and sincerity, and Barone absolutely nails Grace’s deadpan delivery.
And then there are the cameos…Megan Fox, Charli XCX, Bowen Yang, Matt Rogers, Kaia Gerber, James Van Der Beek—each one a surreal treat that adds to the show’s heightened reality. We’re not going to lie, all these stars pop up in scene-stealing moments that feel like pop quizzes in gay culture and we love that.
That said, Overcompensating isn’t without its flaws. As we said earlier, because Skinner’s comedic voice is so specific, it can be polarizing. The show’s reliance on familiar tropes, particularly those tied to queerness and college stereotypes, can sometimes feel more like repetition than reinvention. The humor, while often sharp, occasionally skims the surface, leaning on references or archetypes that don’t always get unpacked. The satire is there, but it doesn’t always land as hard as it could.
Also, we have to talk about the casting choice of thirty-something actors playing college freshmen. In today’s TV landscape, it stands out, and not necessarily in a good way. It’s a trope we’ve seen in shows like Glee or Riverdale, and while it could be interpreted as an intentional nod to these hits from the past, it can still be distracting. That said, if you don’t overthink it, it’s easy enough to accept it as part of the show’s larger-than-life aesthetic.
Still, there’s something refreshing about the way Overcompensating embraces the messiness of queerness, especially in the context of a coming-out story. It doesn’t present identity as a tidy arc or a sudden revelation. Instead, it shows us what happens when repression, performance, and desire collide in real time. Benny’s journey is awkward, chaotic, and often hilarious, but it’s also deeply honest. Skinner understands that queerness is not a single “aha” moment, but a series of small, strange, deeply personal reckonings.
At its best, Overcompensating is a clever, chaotic commentary on queer identity, the absurdity of college culture, and the lies we tell ourselves to survive. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, but it never loses sight of the emotional core: the painful, funny, confusing process of figuring out who we are and learning to stop apologizing for it.
And while in the end, Overcompensating might not be a perfect show, it’s a bold and uniquely queer one. It captures the discomfort of growing up, the pain of pretending, and the strange comfort in finally letting yourself be seen. Whether you’re here for the absurdity, the cameos, or the unexpected emotional gut punches, there’s something worth watching and thinking about in Skinner’s latest work.
It’s a show that has a unique ability to make you laugh, cringe, reflect, and roll your eyes all at the same time. And honestly? That’s the kind of multi-tasking we wish we’d learned in college.
Overcompensating will be available to stream on Prime Video on May 15. Follow us on X and Instagram for all queer stuff!
Featured Image: Image Courtesy of A24 and Amazon MGM Studios.
