Rachel Sennott appears on the online meeting and immediately launches into an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, appearing truly regretful. She is only a couple of minutes delayed, she wants to justify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, for a writer, this is precisely what you want to hear. Additionally, it’s pretty predictable. Anyone who know her boldly LGBTQ+ and outspoken project titled Bottoms—which she collaborated on with Emma Seligman and featured in together with collaborator The Bear’s standout—will be aware that she possesses a lot to say, whether on identity, intimacy, or the pros of forming a youth combat group. And, once you finish the recent seasonal HBO series I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she holds even more insights about the struggles of modern youth (At 30, Sennott serves as a relatable figure to younger audiences, straddling eras adept for connecting millennials and Gen Z).
Influences and Storytelling Approach
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and Sennott admits to being enthusiastic, naming it alongside the classic series, Issa Rae’s show and Donald Glover’s series as influences for I Love LA, which tracks the travails of online personality played by Odessa A’Zion and ally and aspiring agent portrayed by Sennott. However, the largest influence on the moodboard was reserved for the popular sitcom, the HBO sitcom about a rising celebrity making his way in a gritty entertainment industry (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott discovered it during COVID-19, became “hooked”, and resolved to create a new version on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she says. The inspiration for the series emerged—partly—from her own, initially fractious, relocation to LA and from the saturn return, a popular occurrence for followers. This represented a time that saw her understand significant truths, in her career and in private life. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she says. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Starting Out
Growing up in the East Coast, the star began creating and acting humor while pursuing theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she says. “Auditions for university comedy troupes led to universal rejection. I tried out for all the NYU plays and didn’t make it into any of them. “It left me questioning my purpose and place.”
She decided to act independently, performing at open mics with her friend and uploading hilarious (and decidedly) bizarre comedy videos online. One, Baby Cult, centered on several females obsessively obsessed with pregnancy; another portrayed being employed at the brand Hollister as akin to being stuck in a scary movie. In a neat twist of fate, she met Emma through the university’s film scene and ultimately starring in her first film, Shiva Baby, an anxious film set at a funeral gathering with hints of Uncut Gems. The big theme of her journey, she explains, has been peers giving her a shot, rather than established gatekeepers. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “They were not involved”, she repeats, adding humorously: “They don’t want us to win.”
Manifesting Dreams
Those who questioned about her earlier will surely be regretting it today. In what she calls a “wild, full-circle” story, she appears to manifested an ideal role. In 2019 she shared a clip named “it’s LA” on social media, in which she lampooned Hollywood trailers (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Now, she’s the co-showrunner (with the co-writer) of a series about Angelenos managing advantages of internet fame (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with downsides (your associate being suspected of being a intoxicated thief, and perhaps becoming a risky outcast). Some could easy to make a program about digital influence that was extremely aspirational—or, more problematic, one that punched down at the characters. I Love LA avoids both, creating a portrait of advantaged twentysomething life that’s honest 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
