Rachel Sennott appears on the video call and immediately launches into an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, sounding truly regretful. Despite being only a couple of minutes behind, she needs to clarify. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Luckily, in this context, this is precisely what one hopes to hear. Besides, it’s pretty predictable. Viewers familiar with the boldly queer and outspoken project titled Bottoms—that Sennott penned with Emma Seligman and starred in alongside collaborator The Bear’s standout—would understand that she possesses much to say, be it about identity, intimacy, or the appeal of starting a high-school fight club. Plus, once you finish her new eight-part show I Love LA, it is clear that she holds further perspectives about the darker side of modern youth (As a millennial, she is an honorary member to younger audiences, straddling eras with a knack for bridging both generations).
Inspirations and Creative Vision
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show can’t be avoided and Sennott admits to being enthusiastic, citing it together with the HBO hit, Issa Rae’s show and Atlanta as guides for the project, which details the travails of an influencer Tallulah and close companion and fledgling agent portrayed by Sennott. Perhaps, the biggest influence on the moodboard went to the popular sitcom, that show depicting an emerging A-list actor succeeding in a gritty LA scene (choice quote: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She discovered it throughout lockdown, became “obsessed”, and resolved 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 says. The concept for I Love LA emerged—to some extent—from her own, at first rocky, transition to Tinseltown and from her cosmic event, a frequently discussed occurrence for followers. It was a phase that saw her grasp major life lessons, in her career and personally. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Early Beginnings
Growing up in New England, Sennott commenced creating and acting comedy while studying theatre at a prestigious arts school. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she explains. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “None of the university plays cast me either.” “It left me questioning my purpose and place.”
She decided to act independently, performing at live shows with her friend and sharing hilarious (and distinctly) weird comedy videos digitally. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed several females fetishistically obsessed with motherhood; a different one envisioned working at the brand Hollister as akin to being trapped in a thriller. Interestingly, she encountered Emma through campus film circles and eventually starring in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby, a tense film set at a Jewish wake with hints of Uncut Gems. A recurring idea of her path, she notes, has been peers offering opportunities, as opposed to established gatekeepers. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, continuing humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Rising Success
Those who were skeptical about Sennott then will likely be regretting it today. In what she labels a “astonishingly complete” turn of events, she appears to created the perfect project. A few years back she shared content named “it’s LA” online, in which she parodied movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Now, she’s executive producer (with Emma Barrie) of a show about city dwellers balancing advantages of online celebrity (such as socializing at a famous actor’s house) with its pitfalls (your associate being labeled as being a intoxicated criminal, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). Some could tempting to make a show about online fame that was horribly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that punched down at its subjects. I Love LA avoids both, making for a representation of affluent millennial living that’s frank about the grot and the shine.
Empathetic Approach
“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
