Rachel Sennott appears on the online meeting and immediately starts an explanation. “Apologies for the delay!” she states, sounding really remorseful. She is only slightly behind, she wants to explain. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Fortunately, for a writer, this is precisely what is ideal to experience. Additionally, it’s quite expected. Viewers who have seen the boldly openly gay and unapologetically crass movie titled Bottoms—that she collaborated on with the director and appeared in together with close companion Ayo Edebiri—would be aware that she possesses plenty to say, ranging from about roles, intimacy, or the merits of creating a youth fight club. And, once you finish her latest eight-part show titled I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she holds further perspectives regarding the challenges of young adulthood (At 30, Sennott is an honorary member of the gang, on the cusp with a knack for connecting both generations).
Parallels to the iconic series Girls naturally arise and Sennott readily acknowledges enthusiastic, naming the show in addition to the HBO hit, Insecure and the innovative program as guides for her series, which follows the journey of an influencer played by Odessa A’Zion and close companion who is also new representative Maia. However, the biggest spot on creative vision went to Entourage, the show focusing on an up-and-coming Hollywood star making his way in a gritty LA scene (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott started watching it amid lockdown, became “hooked”, and resolved to add a fresh perspective on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she says. The idea for this project emerged—in part—from her own, initially difficult, relocation to Los Angeles and from the cosmic event, a frequently discussed event for astrology heads. This represented a phase that included her understand significant insights, work-wise and in private life. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she says. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Raised in New England, Sennott commenced creating and acting humor while enrolled in theatre at a prestigious arts school. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she explains. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
She took matters into her own hands, taking the stage at live shows with Ayo and sharing uproarious (and very) bizarre comedy videos digitally. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, depicted several females fetishistically obsessed with motherhood; a different one portrayed working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as similar to being trapped in a scary movie. By chance, she encountered Seligman through the university’s film scene and ended up appearing in her first film, Shiva Baby, a tense film set at a religious event with echoes of Uncut Gems. The central motif of her journey, she notes, has been peers supporting her, rather than traditional networks. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Not the gatekeepers”, she repeats, adding with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who had doubts regarding her earlier will certainly be regretting it currently. In what she labels a “incredibly circular” turn of events, she has manifested her dream vehicle. A few years back she posted a video titled “it’s LA” on social media, in which she mocked Hollywood trailers (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s executive producer (with Emma Barrie) of a comedy about LA residents juggling the perks of online celebrity (such as celebrating at a famous actor’s house) with downsides (your client being suspected of being a intoxicated criminal, and possibly becoming a unreliable outcast). Some could tempting to make a program about online fame that was overly glamorous—or, worse, one that punched down at those depicted. The series avoids both, resulting in a portrait of privileged young adult life that’s frank about the grot and the glamour.
“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
Elara is a digital artist and content strategist with over a decade of experience in visual media and creative blogging.