Rachel Sennott joins the online meeting and immediately begins an excuse. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, sounding truly remorseful. Although she's only slightly late, she needs to clarify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Fortunately, in this context, that’s exactly what one hopes to experience. Additionally, it’s quite predictable. Viewers who have seen the boldly LGBTQ+ and outspoken project Bottoms—which she penned with Emma Seligman and appeared in with collaborator Ayo Edebiri—would understand that Sennott possesses much to share, whether on roles, intimacy, or the merits of forming a youth fight club. And, once you finish the recent seasonal program titled I Love LA, viewers realize that she has further thoughts about the struggles of Gen Z life (Now in her thirties, she represents an honorary member for this generation, a tale-end millennial with a knack for connecting different age groups).
Influences and Artistic Direction
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls are inevitable and the actress readily acknowledges enthusiastic, naming it in addition to the HBO hit, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as guides for I Love LA, which details the struggles of a social media star Tallulah and ally who is also new representative Maia. Perhaps, the most significant influence on the moodboard was reserved for the popular sitcom, the show focusing on an up-and-coming celebrity making his way in an often-seedy entertainment industry (choice quote: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She discovered it during the pandemic, became “captivated”, and resolved 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 the series originated—to some extent—from firsthand, at first fractious, relocation to Tinseltown and from her saturn return, a frequently discussed event for followers. It was a phase that included her learn some big life lessons, work-wise and in private life. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she says. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Early Beginnings
Raised in the East Coast, the star started writing and performing stand-up while pursuing theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she says. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “None of the university plays cast me either.” “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott decided to act independently, appearing at open mics with Ayo and uploading hysterical (and distinctly) weird online content digitally. One, Baby Cult, centered on characters obsessively drawn to pregnancy; a different one envisioned being employed at the brand Hollister as like being stuck in a scary movie. Interestingly, she connected with Emma through campus film circles and eventually starring in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a stressful dramedy set at a religious event with echoes of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The big theme of her path, she notes, has been peers giving her a shot, instead of traditional networks. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “They were not involved”, she emphasizes, continuing amusedly: “They don’t want us to win.”
Manifesting Dreams
Those who had doubts about Sennott then will certainly be regretting it today. Through she describes as a “astonishingly complete” turn of events, she has manifested her dream vehicle. In 2019 she shared content named “it’s LA” on social media, in which she lampooned film promos (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s executive producer (with the co-writer) of a comedy about LA residents managing benefits of internet fame (such as celebrating at a famous actor’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being accused of being a drug-addled thief, and potentially becoming a unreliable outcast). It would be tempting to produce a program about online fame that was overly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that punched down at its subjects. I Love LA does neither, making for a depiction of affluent millennial living that’s frank about the mess and the shine.
Nuanced Portrayal
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” 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
