The actress and writer exploring the side-splitting comedy depicting the grotty allure of today's youth lifestyle
Rachel Sennott joins the online meeting and at once starts an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, appearing really apologetic. Despite being only slightly behind, she needs to clarify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, in this context, that’s precisely what is ideal to hear. Moreover, it’s fairly expected. Those who know the boldly LGBTQ+ and unapologetically crass film Bottoms—which she penned with Emma Seligman and featured in alongside her friend Ayo Edebiri—would understand that she holds plenty to share, be it about roles, intimacy, or the merits of starting a teen fight club. Plus, by the end the new multi-episode show I Love LA, viewers realize that the star has additional perspectives on the struggles of Gen Z life (At 30, she serves as an honorary member for this generation, a tale-end millennial with a knack for straddling millennials and Gen Z).
Influences and Storytelling Approach
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s Girls can’t be avoided and the actress readily acknowledges enthusiastic, referencing the show alongside the classic series, Issa Rae’s show and Atlanta as guides for I Love LA, which tracks the journey of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and ally who is also new talent manager Maia. Perhaps, the most significant spot on the moodboard was reserved for the popular sitcom, that HBO sitcom about an emerging Hollywood star succeeding in a gritty LA scene (choice quote: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott began viewing it throughout 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 says. The idea for the series originated—in part—from firsthand, initially rocky, transition to Los Angeles and from the saturn return, a much-talked-about event for enthusiasts. That period marked a time that included her learn significant truths, work-wise and in private life. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she says. “In my mid-20s, I moved to LA and got settled. And then I felt like everything started to just fall apart. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Starting Out
Raised in the East Coast, the star started developing and showcasing comedy while enrolled in acting at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she explains. “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.”
Sennott decided to act independently, taking the stage at amateur nights with Edebiri and uploading uproarious (and decidedly) bizarre comedy videos digitally. One, titled Baby Cult, followed several females intensely drawn to pregnancy; another imagined being employed at the brand Hollister as like being caught in a scary movie. In a neat twist of fate, she encountered Emma through NYU’s movie community and ended up appearing in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a stressful film set at a funeral gathering with shades of Uncut Gems. A recurring idea of her path, she notes, has been contemporaries giving her a shot, rather than established gatekeepers. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Not the gatekeepers”, she repeats, adding with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Manifesting Dreams
Anyone who questioned regarding her previously will surely be kicking themselves now. Through she labels a “astonishingly complete” story, she seems to have achieved her dream vehicle. In 2019 she uploaded a clip called on LA life on the internet, in which she parodied Hollywood trailers (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Now, she’s executive producer (with the co-writer) of a show about city dwellers juggling advantages of online celebrity (such as partying at a celebrity’s house) with downsides (your friend being labeled as being a substance-abusing criminal, and possibly becoming a risky outcast). Some could tempting to create a series about digital influence that was horribly idealized—or, worse, one that punched down at those depicted. I Love LA does neither, resulting in a representation of privileged young adult living that’s frank about the chaos and the glamour.
Nuanced Portrayal
“Many programs portray youth and online life with disdain and mockery,” 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