Rachel Sennott appears on the video call and immediately begins an excuse. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she exclaims, appearing really remorseful. Although she's only a couple of minutes delayed, she needs to clarify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Previous discussions went over, and I realized I talk too much!” Thankfully, during an interview, that’s exactly what you want to hear. Additionally, it’s quite expected. Anyone who know the boldly openly gay and unapologetically crass project Bottoms—that Sennott co-wrote with Emma Seligman and featured in with her friend Ayo Edebiri—will already know that Sennott has much to discuss, whether about roles, intimacy, or the appeal of creating a high-school combat group. And, once you finish the new eight-part program I Love LA, it is clear that the star holds further thoughts about the struggles of young adulthood (As a millennial, Sennott is an honorary member for this generation, straddling eras with a knack for connecting different age groups).
Guiding Lights and Artistic Direction
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s Girls are inevitable and Sennott admits to being enthusiastic, referencing the show alongside the classic series, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as inspirations for the project, which follows the travails of online personality Tallulah and her friend and new agent Sennott’s character. Perhaps, the most significant presence on the moodboard belonged to the popular sitcom, that HBO sitcom depicting an up-and-coming Hollywood star navigating in a gritty LA scene (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She began viewing it amid COVID-19, became “hooked”, and chose to put her own twist on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she notes. The idea for this project emerged—to some extent—from firsthand, initially fractious, relocation to LA and from her cosmic event, a frequently discussed occurrence for enthusiasts. This represented a time that involved her understand significant truths, professionally and personally. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she recalls. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Humble Origins
Growing up in Connecticut, Sennott commenced developing and showcasing stand-up while pursuing theatre at a prestigious arts school. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” 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. And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott took matters into her own hands, taking the stage at open mics with Edebiri and sharing uproarious (and distinctly) bizarre comedy videos digitally. One, titled Baby Cult, centered on several females obsessively fixated on pregnancy; a different one imagined being employed at the preppy clothing store Hollister as similar to being stuck in a scary movie. By chance, she encountered Emma through NYU’s movie community and eventually appearing in her directorial debut, titled Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a religious event with hints of the intense thriller. The big theme of her journey, she notes, has been people her own age giving her a shot, rather than established gatekeepers. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, stating with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Rising Success
Those who questioned regarding her then will likely be kicking themselves currently. Through she calls a “incredibly circular” turn of events, she has created her dream vehicle. A few years back she posted content named about Los Angeles on social media, in which she lampooned Hollywood trailers (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Six years on, she’s executive producer (with her partner) of a show about LA residents managing benefits of online celebrity (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your client being accused of being a substance-abusing criminal, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” pariah). It would be simple to make a program about online fame that was horribly glamorous—or, worse, one that belittled at its subjects. I Love LA avoids both, making for a representation of advantaged millennial life that’s frank about the chaos and the glamour.
Nuanced Portrayal
“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
