Rachel Sennott appears on the online meeting and right away starts an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, appearing truly apologetic. She is only a couple of minutes late, 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 just what one hopes to hear. Additionally, it’s pretty expected. Anyone who have seen the fearlessly queer and brash movie Bottoms—which Sennott penned with her creative partner and appeared in with collaborator The Bear’s standout—will understand that Sennott possesses much to share, whether on identity, relationships, or the appeal of creating a youth fight club. Furthermore, by the end her recent seasonal HBO series titled I Love LA, it is clear that she has even more insights regarding the struggles of modern youth (Now in her thirties, she represents a relatable figure to younger audiences, straddling eras with a knack for connecting millennials and Gen Z).
Likenesses to Lena Dunham’s Girls naturally arise and the actress admits to being an admirer, citing the show alongside Sex and the City, the acclaimed comedy and Donald Glover’s series as inspirations for the project, which tracks the travails of online personality Tallulah and close companion who is also fledgling representative Sennott’s character. Notably, the most significant spot on creative vision was reserved for the popular sitcom, that HBO sitcom focusing on an emerging Hollywood star succeeding in an often-seedy Hollywood (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott started watching it throughout lockdown, became “obsessed”, and decided to add a fresh perspective 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 explains. The idea for I Love LA emerged—in part—from firsthand, at first fractious, relocation to LA and from the cosmic event, a frequently discussed phenomenon for astrology heads. It was a time that saw her grasp major insights, work-wise and in private life. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she recalls. “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…”
Brought up in the East Coast, Sennott started creating and acting humor 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 states. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “None of the university plays cast me either.” “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
She decided to act independently, appearing at amateur nights with her friend and sharing uproarious (and distinctly) weird comedy videos on the internet. One, Baby Cult, centered on a group of women fetishistically fixated on motherhood; a different one imagined being employed at a trendy retail outlet as akin to being stuck in a scary movie. By chance, she met Seligman through the university’s film scene and eventually starring in her first film, titled Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a Jewish wake with echoes of the intense thriller. The central motif of her journey, she notes, has been peers offering opportunities, as opposed to established gatekeepers. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, adding with a laugh: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Anyone who were skeptical regarding Sennott then will certainly be regretting it currently. Through she calls a “astonishingly complete” story, she has created an ideal role. A few years back she uploaded a video called about Los Angeles on the internet, in which she mocked Hollywood trailers (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Six years on, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a show about Angelenos juggling benefits of digital stardom (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with its pitfalls (your client being accused of being a substance-abusing thief, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). One might simple to produce a series about online fame that was extremely aspirational—or, worse, one that punched down at its subjects. This show does neither, resulting in a representation of advantaged millennial life that’s candid about the mess and the glamour.
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” she comments. “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
A mindfulness coach and digital wellness advocate with over a decade of experience in helping individuals achieve balance in the modern world.