Rachel Sennott appears on the online meeting and immediately launches into an excuse. “Apologies for the delay!” she states, seeming really apologetic. Although she's only a couple of minutes delayed, she needs to justify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, in this context, that’s just what one hopes to encounter. Moreover, it’s quite predictable. Those who have seen the boldly queer and outspoken film titled Bottoms—which Sennott penned with her creative partner and starred in with close companion Ayo Edebiri—will already know that Sennott possesses much to say, whether about roles, relationships, or the pros of starting a youth fight club. And, by the end the new eight-part HBO series titled I Love LA, viewers realize that she holds even more insights about the struggles of Gen Z life (Now in her thirties, Sennott is an honorary member for this generation, a tale-end millennial skilled for connecting millennials and Gen Z).
Inspirations and Creative Vision
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show naturally arise and the actress is a fan, citing it together with the classic series, Insecure and Atlanta as inspirations for the project, which tracks the journey of an influencer Tallulah and ally who is also fledgling representative Maia. Perhaps, the largest spot on the moodboard went to the popular sitcom, the show depicting a rising Hollywood star making his way in a gritty Hollywood (memorable line: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). Sennott discovered it throughout COVID-19, became “captivated”, and chose to create a new version on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she notes. The inspiration for I Love LA emerged—to some extent—from her own, initially difficult, transition to LA and from her saturn return, a frequently discussed event for astrology heads. It was a phase that saw her grasp some big insights, work-wise and individually. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she recalls. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Humble Origins
Raised in Connecticut, Sennott began writing and performing humor while enrolled in theatre at a prestigious arts school. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she says. “Auditions for university comedy troupes led to universal rejection. “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott took matters into her own hands, performing at amateur nights with Ayo and sharing hysterical (and distinctly) bizarre skits digitally. One, Baby Cult, centered on a group of women obsessively fixated on motherhood; another portrayed being employed at the preppy clothing store Hollister as similar to being caught in a horror film. In a neat twist of fate, she encountered Seligman through NYU’s movie community and ended up featuring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, a stressful dramedy set at a Jewish wake with hints of Uncut Gems. A recurring idea of her path, she notes, has been peers giving her a shot, rather than traditional networks. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Definitely not them”, she confirms, continuing with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Career Breakthrough
Those who questioned about her earlier will surely be kicking themselves now. Through she calls a “astonishingly complete” development, she appears to created the perfect project. In 2019 she posted content named about Los Angeles online, in which she mocked Hollywood trailers (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Six years on, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a comedy about city dwellers balancing the perks of internet fame (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being labeled as being a substance-abusing thief, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). Some could simple to produce a series about digital influence that was horribly glamorous—or, even less favorable, one that mocked at the characters. I Love LA does neither, creating a representation of affluent young adult living that’s candid about the mess and the appeal.
Nuanced Portrayal
“Many programs portray youth and online life with disdain and mockery,” she says. “I think that young people have been through a lot – I’m mostly thinking of people younger than me, like my little sister, who went to college during Covid, so she had to come home, or my other sister who was doing school online.”|“The younger generation has faced significant