Rachel Sennott joins the video call and immediately launches into an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, sounding genuinely apologetic. She is only slightly delayed, she wants 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, this is precisely what one hopes to encounter. Additionally, it’s fairly expected. Anyone who know her boldly queer and brash project titled Bottoms—that Sennott penned with the director and featured in with collaborator the talented actress—will already know that Sennott has much to say, whether about roles, relationships, or the pros of forming a teen brawl society. Furthermore, by the end her new seasonal program I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she has even more insights on the struggles of Gen Z life (Now in her thirties, Sennott is a relatable figure of the gang, straddling eras skilled for straddling both generations).
Guiding Lights and Creative Vision
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show can’t be avoided and Sennott readily acknowledges enthusiastic, referencing the show together with the HBO hit, Insecure and Donald Glover’s series as inspirations for I Love LA, which follows the travails of an influencer Tallulah and close companion who is also aspiring representative Sennott’s character. Notably, the most significant presence on the moodboard went to the HBO series, the show about a rising Hollywood star succeeding in a gritty LA scene (notable statement: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). She began viewing it during the pandemic, became “hooked”, and chose to create a new version 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 idea for I Love LA originated—to some extent—from her own, initially fractious, relocation to Los Angeles and from her saturn return, a much-talked-about occurrence for enthusiasts. It was a phase that saw her grasp major life lessons, work-wise and individually. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “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…”
Humble Origins
Growing up in the East Coast, Sennott started writing and performing comedy while enrolled in acting at NYU’s Tisch. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she states. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. 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 decided to act independently, taking the stage at live shows with her friend and sharing hilarious (and very) bizarre skits digitally. One, Baby Cult, centered on several females fetishistically drawn to pregnancy; another portrayed working at the brand Hollister as like being stuck in a scary movie. In a neat twist of fate, she connected with Emma through NYU’s movie community and ended up appearing in her initial project, Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a funeral gathering with shades of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The big theme of her career, she says, has been contemporaries giving her a shot, instead of established gatekeepers. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, continuing amusedly: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Manifesting Dreams
Those who questioned regarding Sennott then will likely be feeling foolish now. Through she calls a “incredibly circular” turn of events, she has manifested her dream vehicle. Previously she shared a clip named “it’s LA” online, in which she parodied Hollywood trailers (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Six years on, she’s executive producer (with the co-writer) of a series about LA residents balancing the perks of digital stardom (such as partying at a famous actor’s house) with drawbacks (your client being suspected of being a substance-abusing stealer, and possibly becoming a unreliable persona non grata). It would be tempting to produce a program about online fame that was horribly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that belittled at its subjects. The series avoids both, creating a depiction of affluent millennial existence that’s candid about the chaos and the glamour.
Nuanced Portrayal
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” 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
