There is no perfect path to queerness. Oftentimes, it is shitty and gross. Not in the grotesqueway the Christian right peddles, but in the ways of adolescence, where the body feels like its own entity, with its own set of controls and values. The performance that once served as your saving grace, an outward expression of heteronormativity feels foreign because of the emergence of something new. A second coming of age has taken place, and instead of relying on your friends and family as sources of support and guides for this new developmental process, queerness inherently makes you feel alone. The distance between your true self and the performance widens into a gaping hole where shame, guilt, and narcissism take hold. Overcompensating, the Amazon Prime comedy drama series, based on the life of Benito Skinner, articulates the early stages of queer life and the incessant highs and lows that dominate young queerhood, all set on a sex-driven college campus.
College is the perfect setting for a queer journey. For many, it is the first place where young people feel empowered to take control of their agency and life. It is fitting that the first few lines uttered by the new student orientation leaders in the pilot episode are: “Welcome to college. Where you can have a fresh start. Where you can be whoever you want to be.”
Benny (Benito Skinner) refuses to be himself. This tug and pull is displayed throughout the eight-episode season as the main character engages in stereotypically straight activities like pledging a fraternity, lying about hookups, and playing beer pong…while also rapping along to “Super Bass” with his best friend Carmen (Wally Baram) and experiencing unrequited love with his classmate and fraternity brother Miles (Rish Shah).
His inability to live an authentic life results in the development of a toxic co-dependent relationship with Carmen, who he uses as a shield to prevent him from being perceived as queer. In the same vein, Carmen’s proximity to Benny allows her to bypass the stigma of not hooking up with someone on their first night on campus. The two, who are read by the student body as being in a relationship, are dealing with the loss of their previous selves. For them, the promise of freedom in college is frightening. Instead of acknowledging their newfound reality, the two engage in a series of self-destructive behaviors, just like any typical college student.
They are not alone in their defiance of reality. Grace (Mary Beth Barone), Benny’s older sister, experiences grave discomfort in her relationship with Peter (Adam DiMarco), the president of the most prestigious fraternity on campus. In contrast to her brother, Grace transformed her emo twihard, college radio dj persona into a blonde hair, Brandy Melville sorority girl type who exists to fulfill her boyfriend’s deep-seated insecurities at the cost of her own agency and autonomy. Peter, the son of teachers who worked at his all-boys school, sacrifices his morals in the pursuit of college fame and glory, in addition to a coveted finance job upon graduation. The show’s cast articulates what pieces of ourselves we are willing to sacrifice for comfort and security.
This is evident in the pledging rituals for Flesh & Gold, the on-campus secret society that subjects Benny and Carmen to gut-wrenching rituals, such as the ingestion of beer and beta fish or dairy-based pasta, in order to be accepted into the illustrious society. Or Carmen’s hand injuries, after a game of Edward Fortyhands at a university tailgate. In our youth, we will subject ourselves to intense violence and pain, inflict harm upon ourselves, rather than face being alone. Conformity is bliss, or at least the characters of Overcompensating thinks it is until they are forced to confront themselves.
Some of the choices the characters make under pressure are blissful, like Grace’s decision to reconnect with Mimi, one of her queer friends from the college radio station, after she dumps Peter. Some are heartfelt, like Carmen’s choice to step out of her late brother’s shadow. Some are shitty, like Benny’s rejection of his queer identity, which creates tension with the people he loves the most: Carmen, but also Sammy (Lukas Gage), his high school friend who attempted to kiss him when they were younger, and George, a confident sophomore who embraced his queer identity.
In high school, Benny called Sammy the f-slur. In college, Benny did not protect George when his fraternity members used anti-LGBTQ language and rhetoric. In day-to-day activities on campus, Benny creates a sustainable amount of distance between himself and Miles, who is disheartened because he views Benny as his only friend on campus, which only amplifies his otherness as a foreign student of color at an American university. Benny’s self-serving behavior is mostly felt by Carmen, whose needs, such as navigating the grief of losing a loved one, is often overlooked by her best friend.
Despite this, Carmen loves Benny, and Benny loves Carmen. Finding that one person who understands you is extremely important in college, even more if you’re queer. Young queer people need that lifeline of love and support, as they are experiencing intense feelings of self-induced hatred and oppression. Also, they need a friend who is unafraid to call them out on their shit, because the early days of queerness, like adolescence, are filled with immaturity and recklessness. But unlike heterosexuality, which preaches a gospel of isolation, queerness is meant to be experienced in community. Overcompensating shows the struggles along the journey towards becoming a full-fledged queer adult and the need to remove shame.
Can we talk about the rampant misogyny though? “Slutslayer”? Carmen as the prototypical “cool girl” — can outdrink the boys, will take the marker from the mean sorority girl to mark up her “problem areas” herself, will come over just to give you a blowjob and expect nothing in return? I wanted this to be a critique or commentary on misogyny in college campuses, not just among boys but internalized by women, too, but there was just nothing there that actually transformed it from depiction to critique.