The performer appears on the online meeting and right away launches into an excuse. “Apologies for the delay!” she exclaims, seeming genuinely apologetic. She is only a bit behind, she feels compelled to justify. “I have such a problem, because I’m a yapper on the phone. “Previous discussions went over, and I realized I talk too much!” Fortunately, in this context, this is exactly what one hopes to experience. Besides, it’s fairly unsurprising. Anyone familiar with the unapologetically LGBTQ+ and brash movie Bottoms—that she penned with Emma Seligman and starred in alongside collaborator Ayo Edebiri—can understand that she has a lot to share, whether on identity, relationships, or the merits of starting a teen fight club. And, after watching the new seasonal show titled I Love LA, viewers realize that she carries additional thoughts on the struggles of young adulthood (Now in her thirties, Sennott is a relatable figure of the gang, a tale-end millennial adept for straddling both generations).
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show are inevitable and the actress readily acknowledges a fan, citing the show together with Sex and the City, Issa Rae’s show and Donald Glover’s series as inspirations for her series, which follows the journey of an influencer played by Odessa A’Zion and close companion and new representative Maia. However, the biggest influence on concept went to the HBO series, the show about a rising Hollywood star succeeding in a corrupt LA scene (notable statement: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott began viewing it amid the pandemic, became “captivated”, and resolved to put her own twist on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she notes. The concept for I Love LA emerged—to some extent—from firsthand, originally fractious, transition to Los Angeles and from her astrological phase, a much-talked-about occurrence for astrology heads. That period marked an era that involved her grasp some big insights, professionally and personally. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “In my mid-20s, I moved to LA and got settled. And then I felt like everything started to just fall apart. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Growing up in Connecticut, the star began developing and showcasing comedy while studying acting at NYU’s Tisch. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she explains. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “None of the university plays cast me either.” “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
Sennott decided to act independently, appearing at live shows with her friend and posting uproarious (and distinctly) weird skits digitally. A particular video, Baby Cult, followed characters intensely drawn to pregnancy; another envisioned being employed at a trendy retail outlet as like being caught in a scary movie. Interestingly, she connected with Seligman through the university’s film scene and eventually appearing in her initial project, titled Shiva Baby, a tense film set at a funeral gathering with echoes of Uncut Gems. The big theme of her path, she notes, has been people her own age offering opportunities, rather than the industry at large. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she repeats, continuing amusedly: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Individuals who questioned regarding Sennott earlier will surely be kicking themselves now. As part of she calls a “wild, full-circle” turn of events, she appears to manifested the perfect project. In 2019 she posted content named on LA life on social media, in which she mocked movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Years later, she’s executive producer (with the co-writer) of a show about LA residents balancing the perks of online celebrity (such as socializing at Elijah Wood’s house) with drawbacks (your client being accused of being a substance-abusing thief, and potentially becoming a unreliable pariah). One might simple to produce a series about internet celebrity that was overly idealized—or, worse, one that belittled at the characters. I Love LA does neither, creating a representation of affluent millennial existence that’s frank about the mess and the shine.
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” she comments. “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 UK-based writer and lifestyle enthusiast with a passion for exploring personal growth and cultural experiences across Britain.