Rachel Sennott enters the digital interview and immediately begins an excuse. “Apologies for the delay!” she exclaims, sounding truly regretful. Although she's only a couple of minutes behind, she feels compelled to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, in this context, that’s just what one hopes to encounter. Besides, it’s fairly expected. Those familiar with her fearlessly queer and unapologetically crass project Bottoms—that Sennott penned with Emma Seligman and featured in together with close companion Ayo Edebiri—can already know that Sennott possesses a lot to share, whether about roles, sex, or the appeal of starting a youth fight club. Plus, by the end the recent multi-episode show I Love LA, it is clear that the star has additional thoughts on the darker side of young adulthood (At 30, she serves as a relatable figure for this generation, a tale-end millennial adept for straddling millennials and Gen Z).
The comparisons to the iconic series Girls naturally arise and the actress readily acknowledges an admirer, referencing it in addition to the HBO hit, Insecure and Atlanta as guides for her series, which tracks the journey of online personality Tallulah and ally and new talent manager Maia. Perhaps, the biggest presence on creative vision belonged to Entourage, the program focusing on a rising celebrity succeeding in a corrupt entertainment industry (notable statement: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She began viewing it throughout the pandemic, became “hooked”, and resolved to put her own twist on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she explains. The concept for the series came—in part—from her own, initially fractious, relocation to LA and from the saturn return, a much-talked-about phenomenon for followers. That period marked a phase that saw her grasp some big truths, professionally and in private life. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she admits. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Raised in the East Coast, the star commenced creating and acting humor while studying performance at NYU’s Tisch. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” 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. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott seized control, taking the stage at open mics with her friend and posting uproarious (and distinctly) bizarre comedy videos digitally. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed characters fetishistically obsessed with motherhood; another envisioned working at the brand Hollister as like being caught in a thriller. By chance, she encountered Emma through campus film circles and ended up featuring in her first film, titled Shiva Baby, a stressful film set at a Jewish wake with hints of the intense thriller. The central motif of her career, she says, has been contemporaries supporting her, as opposed to established gatekeepers. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, adding humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Anyone who questioned regarding her previously will surely be feeling foolish currently. As part of she calls a “incredibly circular” development, she has created her dream vehicle. In 2019 she posted content titled on LA life online, in which she lampooned Hollywood trailers (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a series about LA residents managing the perks of internet fame (such as socializing at a famous actor’s house) with downsides (your associate being suspected of being a intoxicated thief, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” pariah). One might tempting to make a show about digital influence that was extremely aspirational—or, more problematic, one that punched down at its subjects. I Love LA steers clear of each, making for a depiction of affluent twentysomething living that’s honest about the chaos and the glamour.
“Many programs portray youth and online life with disdain and mockery,” 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
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