The performer appears on the video call and right away starts an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, seeming truly apologetic. Although she's only a bit late, she wants to explain. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Thankfully, in this context, this is just what one hopes to encounter. Besides, it’s pretty unsurprising. Viewers who know the fearlessly openly gay and brash project Bottoms—which she co-wrote with Emma Seligman and starred in with collaborator The Bear’s standout—can already know that she possesses much to share, be it on identity, sex, or the pros of starting a teen combat group. And, after watching her new eight-part show titled I Love LA, viewers realize that the star has even more insights about the struggles of young adulthood (As a millennial, she represents a bridge of the gang, straddling eras skilled for straddling millennials and Gen Z).
Guiding Lights and Artistic Direction
Likenesses to Lena Dunham’s Girls are inevitable and the actress admits to being enthusiastic, naming it in addition to the HBO hit, Insecure and Atlanta as inspirations for I Love LA, which tracks the journey of online personality played by Odessa A’Zion and ally who is also new agent Sennott’s character. However, the most significant presence on the moodboard was reserved for the HBO series, that HBO sitcom focusing on an emerging A-list actor making his way in a corrupt entertainment industry (memorable line: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott discovered it during COVID-19, became “obsessed”, and decided to put her own twist on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“My aim was to focus on digital fame over traditional entertainment, as my own beginnings were on the web,” she says. The concept for this project originated—in part—from her own, initially fractious, move to Los Angeles and from the astrological phase, a frequently discussed event for astrology heads. That period marked a time that involved her learn some big truths, work-wise and individually. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she says. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Early Beginnings
Growing up in Connecticut, Sennott started writing and performing stand-up while pursuing theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she states. “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.”
Sennott decided to act independently, performing at live shows with Edebiri and uploading uproarious (and decidedly) bizarre comedy videos on the internet. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed a group of women intensely obsessed with motherhood; another envisioned working at the brand Hollister as similar to being caught in a horror film. In a neat twist of fate, she met Seligman through the university’s film scene and eventually appearing in her initial project, Shiva Baby, an anxious film set at a funeral gathering with echoes of the Safdie brothers’ movie. A recurring idea of her journey, she says, has been peers supporting her, rather than traditional networks. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, continuing with a laugh: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Rising Success
Those who questioned about Sennott previously will likely be feeling foolish today. In what she describes as a “wild, full-circle” story, she seems to have created the perfect project. Previously she posted a clip named “it’s LA” on the internet, in which she parodied movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Years later, she’s the co-showrunner (with her partner) of a series about Angelenos balancing the perks of online celebrity (such as socializing at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your client being accused of being a substance-abusing stealer, and perhaps becoming a risky outcast). It would be simple to create a show about online fame that was horribly glamorous—or, even less favorable, one that belittled at the characters. This show avoids both, resulting in a representation of privileged young adult life that’s frank about the grot and the glamour.
Empathetic Approach
“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
