The star appears on the video call and right away begins an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, appearing truly regretful. Although she's only a bit delayed, she feels compelled to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Thankfully, in this context, this is exactly what you want to experience. Additionally, it’s fairly unsurprising. Those who know her boldly LGBTQ+ and brash movie Bottoms—which she co-wrote with Emma Seligman and featured in alongside her friend Ayo Edebiri—can already know that Sennott possesses plenty to say, be it about gender, sex, or the appeal of starting a youth fight club. Plus, once you finish the recent multi-episode show I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she carries even more insights about the challenges of Gen Z life (As a millennial, Sennott serves as a relatable figure of the gang, straddling eras skilled for straddling both generations).
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and Sennott readily acknowledges enthusiastic, referencing it alongside Sex and the City, Insecure and the innovative program as guides for I Love LA, which tracks the travails of an influencer Tallulah and her friend and new representative Sennott’s character. However, the largest spot on concept belonged to the popular sitcom, that HBO sitcom focusing on an up-and-coming celebrity navigating in a corrupt LA scene (notable statement: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott began viewing it throughout the pandemic, became “captivated”, and resolved to create a new version 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 explains. The concept for I Love LA emerged—partly—from firsthand, initially rocky, move to Los Angeles and from the astrological phase, a popular event for followers. It was a phase that saw her learn significant insights, work-wise and personally. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she recalls. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Raised in New England, Sennott began writing and performing humor while pursuing acting at NYU’s Tisch. “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. “None of the university plays cast me either.” And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott decided to act independently, performing at live shows with her friend and posting hysterical (and distinctly) bizarre online content online. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed a group of women obsessively obsessed with having babies; a different one imagined being employed at the brand Hollister as similar to being stuck in a thriller. Interestingly, she encountered Seligman through NYU’s movie community and eventually featuring in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby, a tense film set at a religious event with hints of the intense thriller. The central motif of her path, she explains, has been contemporaries offering opportunities, rather than traditional networks. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “They were not involved”, she repeats, continuing humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Those who were skeptical about Sennott then will surely be regretting it currently. As part of she calls a “incredibly circular” development, she seems to have created an ideal role. In 2019 she uploaded a clip called about Los Angeles online, in which she lampooned film promos (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Now, she’s a lead creator (with the co-writer) of a show about LA residents managing the perks of digital stardom (such as partying at Elijah Wood’s house) with drawbacks (your associate being labeled as being a intoxicated thief, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” outcast). One might easy to produce a series about online fame that was overly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that mocked at the characters. The series avoids both, resulting in a depiction of privileged millennial living that’s frank about the mess and the shine.
“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
Elara Vance is a wellness coach and writer passionate about sharing strategies for positive mindset and holistic living.