Rachel Sennott joins the video call and at once begins an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she states, seeming truly remorseful. Despite being only slightly delayed, she feels compelled 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!” Luckily, for a writer, that’s exactly what one hopes to encounter. Besides, it’s pretty expected. Anyone familiar with her fearlessly queer and brash project titled Bottoms—that Sennott collaborated on with Emma Seligman and starred in alongside collaborator The Bear’s standout—can understand that Sennott possesses much to discuss, whether on identity, sex, or the pros of forming a high-school combat group. Furthermore, by the end the latest multi-episode HBO series I Love LA, viewers realize that the star has even more thoughts on the darker side of Gen Z life (As a millennial, she represents a bridge of the gang, on the cusp skilled for straddling millennials and Gen Z).
Likenesses to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show are inevitable and Sennott admits to being an admirer, referencing it alongside Sex and the City, the acclaimed comedy and the innovative program as influences for the project, which follows the travails of an influencer Tallulah and close companion and fledgling agent portrayed by Sennott. However, the largest spot on creative vision belonged to Entourage, the program depicting an up-and-coming Hollywood star succeeding in a corrupt Hollywood (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). She began viewing it throughout lockdown, became “obsessed”, and resolved to add a fresh perspective on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she explains. The concept for the series emerged—to some extent—from personal, at first difficult, relocation to LA and from the saturn return, a frequently discussed occurrence for astrology heads. This represented an era that included her grasp some big insights, professionally and personally. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she says. “In my mid-20s, I moved to LA and got settled. And then I felt like everything started to just fall apart. It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Raised in New England, the star commenced developing and showcasing stand-up while studying acting at NYU’s Tisch. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” 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 Ayo and uploading uproarious (and very) weird comedy videos online. One, Baby Cult, centered on characters fetishistically obsessed with having babies; another imagined being employed at the brand Hollister as like being stuck in a horror film. In a neat twist of fate, she encountered Seligman through NYU’s movie community and ended up featuring in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby, a stressful dramedy set at a religious event with shades of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The big theme of her career, she notes, has been peers supporting her, instead of the industry at large. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Definitely not them”, she repeats, stating with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Individuals who were skeptical regarding Sennott earlier will likely be feeling foolish now. Through she labels a “incredibly circular” turn of events, she seems to have created an ideal role. A few years back she shared a clip named about Los Angeles online, in which she lampooned movie previews (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Years later, she’s a lead creator (with her partner) of a show about LA residents balancing advantages of digital stardom (such as socializing at a famous actor’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being suspected of being a drug-addled stealer, and possibly becoming a unreliable pariah). Some could easy to create a series about internet celebrity that was horribly glamorous—or, even less favorable, one that mocked at its subjects. I Love LA does neither, creating a portrait of advantaged young adult existence that’s candid about the mess and the shine.
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” 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
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