Rachel Sennott appears on the video call and at once starts an apology. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, appearing truly regretful. Although she's only a couple of minutes behind, she feels compelled to justify. “I have such a problem, because I’m a yapper on the phone. “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Thankfully, during an interview, this is just what one hopes to encounter. Moreover, it’s quite predictable. Anyone familiar with her boldly LGBTQ+ and outspoken film titled Bottoms—which she penned with the director and featured in alongside close companion Ayo Edebiri—will be aware that Sennott holds plenty to share, ranging from about gender, intimacy, or the merits of starting a youth brawl society. And, once you finish the recent seasonal show I Love LA, it is clear that the star carries additional perspectives about the challenges of young adulthood (As a millennial, she is a bridge for this generation, straddling eras with a knack for straddling millennials and Gen Z).
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and Sennott readily acknowledges an admirer, citing it alongside the HBO hit, Insecure and the innovative program as guides for her series, which tracks the travails of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and close companion who is also new talent manager Maia. Perhaps, the most significant presence on the moodboard was reserved for the HBO series, the program about an emerging A-list actor navigating in an often-seedy Hollywood (choice quote: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She began viewing it amid the pandemic, became “captivated”, and decided to put her own twist 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 notes. The idea for this project originated—in part—from personal, initially difficult, move to LA and from the astrological phase, a frequently discussed phenomenon for enthusiasts. This represented an era that involved her learn major insights, work-wise and individually. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she says. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Brought up in Connecticut, Sennott commenced creating and acting humor while pursuing acting at NYU’s Tisch. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she explains. “Auditions for university comedy troupes led to universal rejection. “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. “It left me questioning my purpose and place.”
She decided to act independently, appearing at amateur nights with Edebiri and uploading uproarious (and decidedly) weird online content online. A particular video, Baby Cult, followed several females fetishistically fixated on motherhood; another imagined being employed at the preppy clothing store Hollister as like being caught in a horror film. Interestingly, she connected with Seligman through campus film circles and ultimately appearing in her first film, Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a Jewish wake with hints of Uncut Gems. The central motif of her path, she says, has been contemporaries supporting her, rather than the industry at large. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, continuing amusedly: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Those who questioned regarding Sennott previously will surely be regretting it currently. Through she calls a “incredibly circular” turn of events, she appears to achieved her dream vehicle. In 2019 she posted content named on LA life on social media, in which she mocked movie previews (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Six years on, she’s executive producer (with the co-writer) of a series about city dwellers balancing the perks of digital stardom (such as partying at a famous actor’s house) with downsides (your client being accused of being a substance-abusing criminal, and possibly becoming a risky outcast). It would be tempting to create a show about digital influence that was extremely glamorous—or, worse, one that belittled at the characters. This show avoids both, creating a representation of advantaged twentysomething life that’s frank about the mess and the glamour.
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” 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
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