Rachel Sennott joins the digital interview and right away begins an excuse. “Apologies for the delay!” she exclaims, sounding genuinely remorseful. She is only a bit late, she wants to justify. “I have such a problem, because I’m a yapper on the phone. I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, for a writer, this is exactly what you want to experience. Additionally, it’s pretty predictable. Anyone who have seen the unapologetically LGBTQ+ and unapologetically crass film titled Bottoms—which she collaborated on with her creative partner and appeared in together with collaborator the talented actress—will understand that she holds a lot to discuss, ranging from about identity, sex, or the merits of starting a high-school brawl society. And, by the end her new eight-part program titled I Love LA, it is clear that she holds further insights regarding the darker side of Gen Z life (As a millennial, she is an honorary member of the gang, a tale-end millennial with a knack for connecting both generations).
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls naturally arise and Sennott is an admirer, naming it together with Sex and the City, Insecure and the innovative program as guides for the project, which details the struggles of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and close companion who is also fledgling agent Maia. Notably, the most significant influence on the moodboard belonged to the HBO series, the show depicting an up-and-coming Hollywood star making his way in a corrupt entertainment industry (choice quote: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She started watching it throughout COVID-19, became “captivated”, and decided to put her own twist on it “for the girls and the gays”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she says. The idea for this project originated—in part—from her own, initially fractious, move to Tinseltown and from her saturn return, a frequently discussed phenomenon for enthusiasts. This represented a phase that saw her grasp major truths, work-wise and personally. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she recalls. “In my mid-20s, I moved to LA and got settled. And then I felt like everything started to just fall apart. “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Growing up in New England, the star began developing and showcasing comedy while enrolled in acting at NYU’s Tisch. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she explains. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott took matters into her own hands, appearing at live shows with her friend and posting uproarious (and distinctly) bizarre online content online. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed several females obsessively fixated on having babies; another envisioned being employed at a trendy retail outlet as akin to being trapped in a thriller. In a neat twist of fate, she met Seligman through NYU’s movie community and ultimately featuring in her first film, Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a funeral gathering with echoes of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The big theme of her career, she notes, has been people her own age giving her a shot, rather than established gatekeepers. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Definitely not them”, she repeats, adding with a laugh: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Those who had doubts regarding her then will likely be regretting it today. As part of she describes as a “astonishingly complete” story, she appears to created the perfect project. In 2019 she posted a clip titled about Los Angeles on social media, in which she parodied film promos (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Years later, she’s the co-showrunner (with the co-writer) of a series about Angelenos managing benefits of online celebrity (such as celebrating at Elijah Wood’s house) with drawbacks (your client being accused of being a drug-addled criminal, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” outcast). One might simple to produce a series about digital influence that was extremely idealized—or, more problematic, one that punched down at the characters. This show avoids both, resulting in a representation of affluent twentysomething existence that’s candid about the grot and the shine.
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” she observes. “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
