Rachel Sennott joins the video call and at once starts an apology. “Apologies for the delay!” she exclaims, seeming truly regretful. Despite being only a bit late, she wants to justify. “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 exactly what is ideal to experience. Besides, it’s fairly unsurprising. Anyone who have seen her fearlessly LGBTQ+ and unapologetically crass film Bottoms—which she penned with her creative partner and starred in with her friend Ayo Edebiri—would understand that Sennott has much to discuss, whether on gender, sex, or the pros of creating a high-school combat group. Plus, after watching her recent seasonal show I Love LA, viewers realize that the star carries additional perspectives about the challenges of modern youth (Now in her thirties, she serves as a bridge for this generation, on the cusp adept for connecting millennials and Gen Z).
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and Sennott is an admirer, naming it in addition to the classic series, Insecure and Atlanta as inspirations for her series, which follows the struggles of an influencer played by Odessa A’Zion and ally and fledgling representative Sennott’s character. Perhaps, the most significant spot on the moodboard went to the HBO series, that HBO sitcom focusing on an emerging Hollywood star succeeding in a corrupt Hollywood (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott began viewing it during the pandemic, became “hooked”, and decided to add a fresh perspective 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 says. The inspiration for this project originated—to some extent—from her own, at first difficult, relocation to LA and from her saturn return, a much-talked-about occurrence for enthusiasts. This represented a phase that involved her understand some big insights, in her career and personally. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Brought up in the East Coast, Sennott began developing and showcasing humor while studying acting at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she says. “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. “It left me questioning my purpose and place.”
She took matters into her own hands, performing at open mics with Edebiri and uploading hilarious (and distinctly) unconventional online content on the internet. A particular video, Baby Cult, centered on characters obsessively drawn to pregnancy; a different one imagined working at the brand Hollister as similar to being trapped in a horror film. By chance, she connected with Emma through campus film circles and ended up appearing in her first film, titled Shiva Baby, a tense comedy set at a religious event with hints of Uncut Gems. A recurring idea of her journey, she explains, has been peers offering opportunities, as opposed to established gatekeepers. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “They were not involved”, she emphasizes, adding with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who were skeptical about Sennott earlier will likely be regretting it today. Through she labels a “wild, full-circle” turn of events, she has achieved an ideal role. In 2019 she posted content named “it’s LA” on the internet, in which she mocked Hollywood trailers (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Now, she’s executive producer (with Emma Barrie) of a series about LA residents managing advantages of online celebrity (such as socializing at a famous actor’s house) with downsides (your client being suspected of being a intoxicated thief, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). It would be easy to create a program about online fame that was extremely idealized—or, more problematic, one that mocked at the characters. I Love LA does neither, resulting in a depiction of advantaged twentysomething living that’s honest about the chaos and the glamour.
“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
A tech enthusiast and business strategist with over a decade of experience in digital transformation and startup consulting.