Rachel Sennott enters the digital interview and immediately begins an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she states, appearing genuinely apologetic. Despite being only slightly behind, she needs to explain. “I have such a problem, because I’m a yapper on the phone. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Fortunately, for a writer, this is just what you want to encounter. Besides, it’s fairly expected. Anyone who know her unapologetically LGBTQ+ and unapologetically crass project Bottoms—which Sennott penned with the director and featured in together with close companion The Bear’s standout—would already know that she holds plenty to discuss, whether about roles, intimacy, or the merits of starting a teen combat group. Furthermore, once you finish the latest seasonal program I Love LA, viewers realize that she has even more perspectives about the struggles of Gen Z life (At 30, she represents a relatable figure for this generation, on the cusp adept for bridging millennials and Gen Z).
Likenesses to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show naturally arise and Sennott readily acknowledges an admirer, citing the show together with the HBO hit, Insecure and Donald Glover’s series as inspirations for the project, which details the struggles of an influencer Tallulah and close companion who is also fledgling talent manager Sennott’s character. Notably, the biggest influence on creative vision went to Entourage, the show depicting an up-and-coming A-list actor succeeding in an often-seedy LA scene (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). She discovered it during the pandemic, became “hooked”, and decided to add a fresh perspective on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she says. The idea for I Love LA emerged—in part—from personal, initially rocky, move to LA and from the cosmic event, a frequently discussed event for astrology heads. This represented an era that saw her learn significant insights, professionally and personally. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she recalls. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Growing up in the East Coast, the star commenced writing and performing stand-up while enrolled in performance at a prestigious arts school. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” 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. And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott seized control, appearing at amateur nights with Edebiri and sharing hysterical (and decidedly) unconventional skits online. One, Baby Cult, followed several females intensely drawn to pregnancy; another envisioned being employed at the preppy clothing store Hollister as akin to being caught in a thriller. By chance, she connected with Emma through campus film circles and ended up featuring in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a stressful film set at a funeral gathering with shades of Uncut Gems. The big theme of her journey, she notes, has been contemporaries offering opportunities, as opposed to established gatekeepers. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Not the gatekeepers”, she emphasizes, adding with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who had doubts regarding Sennott earlier will likely be kicking themselves now. Through she calls a “wild, full-circle” development, she has created the perfect project. In 2019 she posted a clip titled on LA life on the internet, in which she mocked film promos (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Now, she’s executive producer (with the co-writer) of a series about LA residents managing benefits of internet fame (such as celebrating at a famous actor’s house) with its pitfalls (your friend being labeled as being a drug-addled thief, and possibly becoming a unreliable outcast). Some could simple to create a program about digital influence that was overly aspirational—or, even less favorable, one that mocked at its subjects. This show steers clear of each, making for a representation of privileged millennial life that’s candid about the mess and the appeal.
“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
A seasoned lifestyle journalist with over a decade of experience covering luxury markets and global travel, known for her insightful perspectives on elegance and culture.