Rachel Sennott enters the video call and right away launches into an explanation. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she states, seeming really regretful. She is only a bit delayed, she wants to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Thankfully, in this context, this is precisely what one hopes to hear. Besides, it’s pretty predictable. Viewers familiar with her unapologetically queer and brash project Bottoms—which she co-wrote with her creative partner and featured in with collaborator Ayo Edebiri—will already know that she possesses much to discuss, be it about identity, intimacy, or the pros of creating a teen fight club. Plus, by the end her recent seasonal HBO series I Love LA, viewers realize that she holds even more thoughts on the darker side of young adulthood (At 30, she represents a relatable figure of the gang, on the cusp adept for bridging millennials and Gen Z).
Inspirations and Artistic Direction
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s Girls naturally arise and Sennott is an admirer, citing the show in addition to Sex and the City, Issa Rae’s show and the innovative program as inspirations for I Love LA, which details the journey of an influencer played by Odessa A’Zion and her friend and fledgling agent Sennott’s character. Notably, the largest influence on the moodboard belonged to Entourage, the HBO sitcom about an emerging Hollywood star succeeding in a corrupt Hollywood (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott started watching it amid lockdown, became “hooked”, and resolved 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 says. The idea for I Love LA came—in part—from firsthand, originally fractious, relocation to LA and from her astrological phase, a popular event for followers. This represented an era that included her grasp some big insights, in her career and individually. “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 …”
Humble Origins
Growing up in the East Coast, Sennott started creating and acting stand-up while studying theatre at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she says. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
She took matters into her own hands, taking the stage at live shows with Ayo and posting hysterical (and very) unconventional skits digitally. One, Baby Cult, depicted characters obsessively drawn to pregnancy; a different one envisioned working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as akin to being caught in a horror film. Interestingly, she met Seligman through campus film circles and ended up starring in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a tense film set at a Jewish wake with shades of the Safdie brothers’ movie. A recurring idea of her journey, she says, has been people her own age supporting her, as opposed to established gatekeepers. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Not the gatekeepers”, she repeats, adding with a laugh: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Rising Success
Individuals who questioned regarding Sennott earlier will surely be kicking themselves now. In what she describes as a “incredibly circular” turn of events, she appears to manifested the perfect project. A few years back she uploaded content named on LA life on the internet, in which she lampooned Hollywood trailers (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Years later, she’s a lead creator (with her partner) of a series about LA residents balancing benefits of online celebrity (such as socializing at a celebrity’s house) with downsides (your associate being labeled as being a drug-addled thief, and possibly becoming a unreliable pariah). One might simple to create a series about online fame that was extremely idealized—or, more problematic, one that punched down at the characters. I Love LA does neither, resulting in a depiction of advantaged young adult existence that’s frank about the grot and the glamour.
Nuanced Portrayal
“Many programs portray youth and online life with disdain and mockery,” 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
