Rachel Sennott appears on the video call and at once launches into an apology. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she states, seeming genuinely regretful. Despite being only slightly behind, she feels compelled to justify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Thankfully, during an interview, that’s exactly what is ideal to encounter. Additionally, it’s pretty expected. Anyone who know her unapologetically openly gay and unapologetically crass project Bottoms—which she penned with Emma Seligman and starred in together with collaborator the talented actress—can already know that she holds much to share, be it about identity, sex, or the appeal of starting a youth combat group. And, once you finish the new eight-part program I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she holds additional insights regarding the challenges of modern youth (At 30, she represents a relatable figure of the gang, a tale-end millennial adept for straddling different age groups).
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show can’t be avoided and Sennott is a fan, naming the show in addition to the HBO hit, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as guides for the project, which follows the struggles of a social media star Tallulah and close companion and aspiring agent Sennott’s character. However, the most significant presence on concept went to Entourage, that program depicting a rising A-list actor making his way in an often-seedy Hollywood (notable statement: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). Sennott began viewing it throughout lockdown, became “hooked”, and resolved 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 says. The idea for I Love LA emerged—in part—from personal, at first difficult, transition to Los Angeles and from the saturn return, a popular event for followers. This represented an era that involved her grasp significant insights, work-wise and individually. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she admits. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Brought up in the East Coast, Sennott started writing and performing stand-up while studying acting at a prestigious arts school. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she states. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott took matters into her own hands, appearing at open mics with Ayo and uploading uproarious (and distinctly) unconventional comedy videos digitally. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, depicted characters obsessively obsessed with having babies; a different one imagined being employed at a trendy retail outlet as like being trapped in a scary movie. By chance, she connected with Seligman through campus film circles and ultimately featuring in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a funeral gathering with echoes of the intense thriller. The big theme of her journey, she explains, has been people her own age offering opportunities, instead of established gatekeepers. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “They were not involved”, she emphasizes, stating amusedly: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Anyone who had doubts about Sennott previously will certainly be feeling foolish currently. In what she labels a “wild, full-circle” turn of events, she appears to manifested her dream vehicle. In 2019 she posted a clip named on LA life on social media, in which she parodied movie previews (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a show about city dwellers managing the perks of digital stardom (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with its pitfalls (your client being accused of being a drug-addled stealer, and perhaps becoming a risky persona non grata). One might simple to make a show about online fame that was overly glamorous—or, worse, one that punched down at its subjects. The series does neither, creating a depiction of affluent twentysomething life that’s frank about the grot and the appeal.
“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
Eleanor Hayes is a data scientist and business analyst with over a decade of experience in transforming raw data into actionable insights.