Rachel Sennott enters the digital interview and at once begins an excuse. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she says, sounding really regretful. Despite being only a bit delayed, she feels compelled to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Luckily, in this context, that’s just what one hopes to hear. Additionally, it’s pretty unsurprising. Those familiar with her unapologetically LGBTQ+ and outspoken film Bottoms—which she collaborated on with her creative partner and starred in alongside collaborator Ayo Edebiri—can already know that Sennott has much to say, ranging from on gender, relationships, or the appeal of creating a youth fight club. Furthermore, by the end her latest seasonal program I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she carries further insights on the darker side of young adulthood (As a millennial, she is an honorary member of the gang, a tale-end millennial skilled for connecting different age groups).
Influences and Creative Vision
Likenesses to Lena Dunham’s Girls naturally arise and Sennott is enthusiastic, naming the show in addition to Sex and the City, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as influences for I Love LA, which follows the struggles of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and close companion who is also aspiring agent Sennott’s character. Perhaps, the most significant influence on the moodboard was reserved for the popular sitcom, the program depicting an emerging Hollywood star navigating in a corrupt LA scene (notable statement: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She discovered it during the pandemic, became “hooked”, and resolved to put her own twist on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she notes. The inspiration for I Love LA originated—to some extent—from personal, originally rocky, move to LA and from the cosmic event, a frequently discussed phenomenon for enthusiasts. That period marked a phase that saw her learn some big life lessons, professionally and in private life. “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 was almost like these biblical tests …”
Starting Out
Growing up in the East Coast, Sennott started writing and performing stand-up while enrolled in acting at NYU’s Tisch. “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. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott seized control, performing at open mics with her friend and uploading hysterical (and very) weird online content on the internet. One, Baby Cult, centered on a group of women intensely fixated on having babies; a different one imagined working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as similar to being stuck in a thriller. By chance, she connected with Emma through NYU’s movie community and eventually featuring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, an anxious dramedy set at a funeral gathering with echoes of the intense thriller. A recurring idea of her path, she notes, has been peers supporting her, as opposed to the industry at large. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, stating with a laugh: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Manifesting Dreams
Individuals who had doubts regarding her earlier will certainly be feeling foolish today. Through she describes as a “astonishingly complete” story, she seems to have achieved her dream vehicle. In 2019 she posted a clip named on LA life on social media, in which she parodied Hollywood trailers (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Six years on, she’s a lead creator (with Emma Barrie) of a comedy about Angelenos managing advantages of digital stardom (such as socializing at Elijah Wood’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being accused of being a drug-addled criminal, and potentially becoming a risky persona non grata). Some could simple to produce a program about online fame that was horribly glamorous—or, even less favorable, one that mocked at those depicted. This show does neither, making for a depiction of affluent young adult existence that’s frank about the grot and the glamour.
Balanced Perspective
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” 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
