Rachel Sennott appears on the video call and right away starts an explanation. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she states, sounding really remorseful. Despite being only slightly delayed, she needs to explain. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Fortunately, for a writer, that’s exactly what you want to hear. Moreover, it’s fairly expected. Anyone familiar with her fearlessly queer and brash movie titled Bottoms—that Sennott collaborated on with her creative partner and featured in alongside collaborator Ayo Edebiri—will already know that she has much to say, ranging from about identity, relationships, or the pros of forming a youth combat group. And, by the end her recent multi-episode program titled I Love LA, it becomes obvious that the star has additional insights on the challenges of young adulthood (At 30, she represents an honorary member for this generation, on the cusp adept for bridging millennials and Gen Z).
Parallels to the iconic series Girls are inevitable and the actress readily acknowledges an admirer, referencing the show alongside Sex and the City, Insecure and the innovative program as inspirations for her series, which details the travails of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and ally and fledgling representative Maia. However, the largest influence on the moodboard went to Entourage, that program focusing on an up-and-coming A-list actor making his way in a corrupt Hollywood (choice quote: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott began viewing it amid COVID-19, became “captivated”, and resolved to create a new version on it “for the girls and the gays”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she says. The idea for I Love LA came—partly—from her own, originally rocky, relocation to LA and from her cosmic event, a frequently discussed phenomenon for enthusiasts. That period marked a time that involved her grasp major life lessons, in her career and in private life. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Growing up in New England, Sennott started developing and showcasing stand-up while enrolled in theatre at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she states. “Auditions for university comedy troupes led to universal rejection. I tried out for all the NYU plays and didn’t make it into any of them. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
She decided to act independently, appearing at amateur nights with her friend and sharing hilarious (and distinctly) unconventional skits digitally. One, titled Baby Cult, depicted characters fetishistically obsessed with motherhood; another portrayed working at a trendy retail outlet as similar to being caught in a thriller. Interestingly, she encountered Emma through the university’s film scene and ultimately featuring in her first film, Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a religious event with shades of the intense thriller. The central motif of her career, she notes, has been people her own age giving her a shot, instead of traditional networks. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “They were not involved”, she emphasizes, stating amusedly: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Anyone who questioned about Sennott earlier will likely be feeling foolish now. As part of she calls a “incredibly circular” story, she appears to achieved the perfect project. Previously she shared a video named “it’s LA” on the internet, in which she mocked film promos (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a show about city dwellers managing advantages of internet fame (such as celebrating at Elijah Wood’s house) with downsides (your associate being labeled as being a drug-addled criminal, and perhaps becoming a risky persona non grata). One might simple to make a series about online fame that was overly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that mocked at the characters. I Love LA avoids both, resulting in a representation of privileged millennial living that’s candid about the grot and the appeal.
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” she observes. “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
Clara Mitchell is a motivational writer and life coach passionate about helping others find joy and purpose.