Rachel Sennott appears on the digital interview and right away begins an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, appearing genuinely regretful. She is only slightly behind, she wants to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Luckily, during an interview, that’s precisely what is ideal to hear. Besides, it’s fairly predictable. Those familiar with her unapologetically queer and outspoken movie titled Bottoms—which Sennott co-wrote with her creative partner and appeared in alongside collaborator The Bear’s standout—will already know that she possesses a lot to discuss, whether about identity, intimacy, or the appeal of forming a high-school combat group. And, by the end the new eight-part HBO series I Love LA, viewers realize that she holds further thoughts about the struggles of young adulthood (At 30, she serves as a bridge to younger audiences, straddling eras with a knack for straddling both generations).
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show naturally arise and the actress is a fan, referencing it in addition to the HBO hit, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as inspirations for the project, which details the struggles of an influencer Tallulah and her friend who is also aspiring talent manager Sennott’s character. However, the largest spot on the moodboard went to Entourage, the HBO sitcom focusing on an emerging celebrity making his way in an often-seedy LA scene (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott began viewing it amid the pandemic, became “captivated”, and decided to create a new version on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she says. The idea for I Love LA emerged—partly—from her own, at first difficult, transition to Los Angeles and from the cosmic event, a much-talked-about phenomenon for enthusiasts. That period marked a phase that saw her grasp significant truths, professionally and personally. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she recalls. “In my mid-20s, I moved to LA and got settled. And then I felt like everything started to just fall apart. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Growing up in New England, Sennott started developing and showcasing stand-up while pursuing acting at a prestigious arts school. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she states. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. “None of the university plays cast me either.” “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott decided to act independently, performing at amateur nights with Edebiri and uploading hysterical (and decidedly) unconventional online content on the internet. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, centered on characters intensely fixated on having babies; another portrayed working at the brand Hollister as akin to being trapped in a thriller. In a neat twist of fate, she met Seligman through NYU’s movie community and ended up appearing in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a religious event with echoes of the intense thriller. A recurring idea of her career, she explains, has been people her own age giving her a shot, rather than traditional networks. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “They were not involved”, she emphasizes, adding humorously: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Individuals who were skeptical regarding her previously will surely be regretting it now. As part of she calls a “astonishingly complete” development, she has manifested an ideal role. In 2019 she posted content named “it’s LA” on social media, in which she lampooned movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Six years on, she’s executive producer (with her partner) of a show about Angelenos juggling benefits of digital stardom (such as celebrating at Elijah Wood’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being labeled as being a intoxicated criminal, and potentially becoming a “brand unsafe” outcast). Some could simple to make a show about online fame that was horribly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that belittled at the characters. I Love LA steers clear of each, resulting in a representation of privileged millennial existence that’s candid about the mess and the shine.
“Many programs portray youth and online life with disdain and mockery,” she comments. “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
Elena Rossi is a cloud technology expert with over a decade of experience in data security and digital transformation strategies.