Rachel Sennott appears on the digital interview and at once starts an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, seeming genuinely apologetic. Although she's only slightly late, she needs to justify. “I have such a problem, because I’m a yapper on the phone. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Luckily, for a writer, this is exactly what is ideal to encounter. Moreover, it’s fairly predictable. Those who have seen the boldly openly gay and unapologetically crass film Bottoms—that Sennott penned with the director and starred in together with collaborator Ayo Edebiri—can understand that she possesses much to discuss, ranging from on roles, sex, or the appeal of forming a teen fight club. Furthermore, after watching the new multi-episode show I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she holds further insights about the challenges of young adulthood (Now in her thirties, Sennott serves as a bridge of the gang, a tale-end millennial adept for straddling different age groups).
Parallels to the iconic series Girls are inevitable and the actress is a fan, referencing it together with the HBO hit, Issa Rae’s show and Atlanta as inspirations for I Love LA, which follows the struggles of a social media star Tallulah and ally who is also new agent Maia. Perhaps, the most significant influence on concept was reserved for the popular sitcom, that program depicting an up-and-coming Hollywood star succeeding in a corrupt LA scene (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott started watching it during the pandemic, became “hooked”, and chose to put her own twist on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she explains. The idea for the series came—partly—from personal, at first fractious, move to LA and from her saturn return, a frequently discussed phenomenon for astrology heads. This represented an era that saw her grasp significant truths, 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. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Growing up in Connecticut, Sennott began creating and acting humor while enrolled in theatre at a prestigious arts school. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she says. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “None of the university plays cast me either.” And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott seized control, performing at amateur nights with her friend and uploading hilarious (and decidedly) unconventional comedy videos on the internet. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed a group of women fetishistically drawn to motherhood; a different one imagined working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as like being caught in a scary movie. By chance, she connected with Seligman through NYU’s movie community and ended up featuring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a religious event with shades of Uncut Gems. The central motif of her path, she notes, has been contemporaries supporting her, rather than traditional networks. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Definitely not them”, she confirms, stating with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who were skeptical regarding Sennott then will likely be kicking themselves currently. Through she describes as a “incredibly circular” story, she seems to have manifested the perfect project. Previously she uploaded content titled about Los Angeles online, in which she parodied film promos (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Years later, she’s the co-showrunner (with her partner) of a show about city dwellers managing benefits of internet fame (such as partying at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your client being suspected of being a drug-addled thief, and possibly becoming a risky pariah). It would be tempting to produce a program about online fame that was horribly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that mocked at the characters. This show steers clear of each, creating a portrait of affluent twentysomething living that’s honest about the grot and the shine.
“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
A tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and digital trends across Europe.