Rachel Sennott enters the digital interview and right away starts an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she exclaims, seeming truly remorseful. Although she's only a couple of minutes late, she needs to justify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Fortunately, during an interview, this is precisely what is ideal to experience. Additionally, it’s fairly expected. Viewers who know the boldly openly gay and unapologetically crass film titled Bottoms—which Sennott penned with her creative partner and starred in together with her friend the talented actress—can already know that Sennott has much to share, whether about roles, intimacy, or the appeal of starting a teen fight club. And, once you finish her recent eight-part HBO series I Love LA, it is clear that the star has additional thoughts on the darker side of young adulthood (Now in her thirties, she represents a bridge to younger audiences, on the cusp adept for connecting millennials and Gen Z).
Parallels to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and the actress is enthusiastic, citing it alongside Sex and the City, Insecure and the innovative program as guides for the project, which follows the travails of an influencer played by Odessa A’Zion and her friend and fledgling representative portrayed by Sennott. Notably, the most significant spot on concept went to Entourage, the show focusing on an emerging celebrity navigating in a corrupt entertainment industry (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott started watching it amid the pandemic, became “hooked”, and decided to put her own twist on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“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—partly—from firsthand, at first difficult, transition to Tinseltown and from the astrological phase, a much-talked-about phenomenon for followers. It was a phase that saw her grasp significant life lessons, in her career and personally. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she says. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Raised in New England, Sennott began creating and acting stand-up while pursuing theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she explains. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. “None of the university plays cast me either.” And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
She took matters into her own hands, performing at live shows with Ayo and sharing hysterical (and distinctly) bizarre online content digitally. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, centered on a group of women intensely fixated on having babies; a different one envisioned working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as like being trapped in a scary movie. Interestingly, she connected with Emma through the university’s film scene and eventually featuring in her directorial debut, titled Shiva Baby, a stressful comedy set at a funeral gathering with shades of the intense thriller. The central motif of her journey, she notes, has been people her own age offering opportunities, rather than the industry at large. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, adding with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Individuals who had doubts about Sennott then will certainly be feeling foolish today. Through she calls a “astonishingly complete” development, she appears to manifested her dream vehicle. In 2019 she shared a video titled on LA life on the internet, in which she mocked film promos (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Six years on, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a show about Angelenos balancing advantages of digital stardom (such as partying at a famous actor’s house) with its pitfalls (your client being suspected of being a intoxicated stealer, and possibly becoming a unreliable persona non grata). One might simple to create a program about digital influence that was extremely idealized—or, even less favorable, one that mocked at those depicted. The series steers clear of each, resulting in a representation of affluent millennial living that’s honest about the grot 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
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