Rachel Sennott joins the video call and at once starts an explanation. “Apologies for the delay!” she says, sounding genuinely regretful. Although she's only a bit behind, she wants to clarify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, during an interview, this is precisely what you want to encounter. Besides, it’s pretty predictable. Viewers familiar with her unapologetically queer and unapologetically crass project titled Bottoms—that she penned with her creative partner and featured in together with her friend the talented actress—can understand that Sennott holds much to share, whether on identity, relationships, or the merits of creating a high-school combat group. And, after watching the recent eight-part program I Love LA, it becomes obvious that the star has even more perspectives on the darker side of modern youth (Now in her thirties, Sennott is an honorary member for this generation, straddling eras with a knack for connecting both generations).
Influences and Creative Vision
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show are inevitable and the actress is an admirer, referencing the show in addition to the HBO hit, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as guides for the project, which details the journey of online personality played by Odessa A’Zion and close companion and fledgling agent Maia. Notably, the most significant influence on creative vision was reserved for Entourage, that program depicting an up-and-coming Hollywood star making his way in an often-seedy LA scene (notable statement: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). She discovered it during COVID-19, became “obsessed”, and resolved to add a fresh perspective on it “for the girls and the gays”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she says. The concept for I Love LA came—to some extent—from her own, initially fractious, move to Los Angeles and from her cosmic event, a frequently discussed phenomenon for followers. That period marked an era that saw her understand some big truths, in her career and in private life. “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 was almost like these biblical tests …”
Early Beginnings
Brought up in the East Coast, Sennott began creating and acting humor while studying acting at a prestigious arts school. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” 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.”
She decided to act independently, performing at amateur nights with Edebiri and uploading uproarious (and distinctly) weird comedy videos on the internet. One, titled Baby Cult, followed characters obsessively drawn to motherhood; another portrayed working at the brand Hollister as like being trapped in a thriller. By chance, she encountered Seligman through the university’s film scene and eventually starring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, an anxious dramedy set at a religious event with shades of Uncut Gems. The big theme of her journey, she notes, has been contemporaries offering opportunities, instead of traditional networks. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, adding with a laugh: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Manifesting Dreams
Anyone who had doubts about her then will likely be kicking themselves today. Through she describes as a “incredibly circular” story, she appears to manifested an ideal role. A few years back she uploaded a clip named about Los Angeles online, in which she mocked film promos (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Years later, she’s a lead creator (with the co-writer) of a series about Angelenos balancing the perks of online celebrity (such as celebrating at a famous actor’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being labeled as being a drug-addled criminal, and possibly becoming a unreliable pariah). It would be tempting to create a program about digital influence that was horribly glamorous—or, more problematic, one that mocked at the characters. I Love LA does neither, resulting in a portrait of advantaged millennial living that’s frank about the chaos and the shine.
Nuanced Portrayal
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” 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
