Rachel Sennott appears on the digital interview and at once starts an excuse. “Apologies for the delay!” she exclaims, appearing truly remorseful. She is only a bit late, she wants to explain. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Luckily, during an interview, that’s precisely what one hopes to hear. Additionally, it’s pretty expected. Those who know her unapologetically queer and unapologetically crass film Bottoms—which Sennott penned with Emma Seligman and appeared in together with her friend the talented actress—would already know that Sennott possesses a lot to discuss, whether on roles, intimacy, or the pros of forming a youth fight club. Plus, after watching her new eight-part show I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she holds even more insights regarding the struggles of modern youth (As a millennial, she serves as a relatable figure of the gang, straddling eras adept for bridging millennials and Gen Z).
Parallels to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and the actress readily acknowledges a fan, naming the show together with Sex and the City, the acclaimed comedy and the innovative program as guides for the project, which tracks the struggles of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and her friend and new agent portrayed by Sennott. However, the biggest spot on creative vision belonged to Entourage, that show focusing on an emerging Hollywood star navigating in an often-seedy entertainment industry (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott discovered it throughout lockdown, became “hooked”, and chose to create a new version 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 inspiration for the series originated—in part—from firsthand, initially rocky, move to Tinseltown and from the astrological phase, a much-talked-about event for followers. It was a phase that included her learn some big life lessons, in her career and in private life. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she says. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Raised in Connecticut, the star commenced writing and performing humor while enrolled in performance at NYU’s Tisch. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she states. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. 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, taking the stage at open mics with Ayo and sharing uproarious (and very) weird skits on the internet. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, centered on characters fetishistically fixated on having babies; another imagined working at a trendy retail outlet as akin to being stuck in a scary movie. By chance, she connected with Emma through campus film circles and ended up starring in her directorial debut, titled Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a religious event with hints of the intense thriller. The big theme of her career, she notes, has been contemporaries supporting her, rather than established gatekeepers. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she confirms, stating humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Individuals who questioned about Sennott previously will likely be regretting it today. As part of she calls a “wild, full-circle” turn of events, she has achieved the perfect project. Previously she shared a video titled “it’s LA” on social media, in which she mocked movie previews (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Now, she’s a lead creator (with Emma Barrie) of a comedy about city dwellers juggling benefits of online celebrity (such as celebrating at a famous actor’s house) with its pitfalls (your associate being labeled as being a intoxicated criminal, and perhaps becoming a risky outcast). It would be tempting to produce a program about online fame that was horribly idealized—or, more problematic, one that mocked at its subjects. The series avoids both, creating a representation of privileged young adult existence that’s frank about the grot and the appeal.
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” 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
Elena Hartwell is a multidisciplinary artist and educator passionate about fostering creative communities in London.