Rachel Sennott appears on the video call and immediately starts an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, seeming truly regretful. She is only slightly delayed, she needs to justify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Previous discussions went over, and I realized I talk too much!” Fortunately, in this context, that’s exactly what is ideal to encounter. Besides, it’s fairly unsurprising. Viewers familiar with the unapologetically queer and unapologetically crass project titled Bottoms—which Sennott penned with the director and featured in together with collaborator The Bear’s standout—can understand that Sennott possesses plenty to say, ranging from about identity, intimacy, or the appeal of forming a high-school fight club. Furthermore, by the end the latest eight-part HBO series I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she carries additional insights on the darker side of modern youth (As a millennial, Sennott represents an honorary member for this generation, on the cusp skilled for bridging both generations).
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s Girls can’t be avoided and the actress readily acknowledges a fan, citing it in addition to the HBO hit, Insecure and Donald Glover’s series as inspirations for I Love LA, which tracks the struggles of a social media star Tallulah and her friend and aspiring agent Sennott’s character. Perhaps, the largest influence on creative vision was reserved for Entourage, the HBO sitcom depicting an emerging Hollywood star navigating in an often-seedy LA scene (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She discovered it throughout the pandemic, became “obsessed”, and decided to add a fresh perspective on it “for the girls and the gays”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she explains. The inspiration for I Love LA emerged—to some extent—from firsthand, initially rocky, relocation to Los Angeles and from the saturn return, a frequently discussed phenomenon for astrology heads. That period marked a time that included her learn significant truths, in her career and in private life. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she recalls. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Brought up in the East Coast, the star began developing and showcasing stand-up while pursuing theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she explains. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” I tried out for all the NYU plays and didn’t make it into any of them. “It left me questioning my purpose and place.”
She seized control, performing at live shows with Ayo and sharing hilarious (and very) unconventional comedy videos online. One, Baby Cult, followed a group of women obsessively obsessed with pregnancy; a different one imagined being employed at the brand Hollister as like being stuck in a thriller. Interestingly, she met Emma through NYU’s movie community and ended up appearing in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, an anxious film set at a Jewish wake with shades of the Safdie brothers’ movie. A recurring idea of her career, she notes, has been people her own age giving her a shot, as opposed to the industry at large. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “They were not involved”, she repeats, stating humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Individuals who questioned about her then will surely be kicking themselves now. Through she labels a “incredibly circular” story, she seems to have created the perfect project. A few years back she posted content titled about Los Angeles on social media, in which she mocked Hollywood trailers (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Six years on, she’s a lead creator (with the co-writer) of a comedy about Angelenos managing benefits of online celebrity (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with its pitfalls (your friend being accused of being a substance-abusing thief, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). Some could tempting to make a series about online fame that was horribly idealized—or, worse, one that belittled at those depicted. I Love LA steers clear of each, creating a portrait of privileged young adult life that’s frank about the grot 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 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