The star joins the video call and immediately starts an explanation. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she says, appearing really remorseful. She is only slightly delayed, she needs to justify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. “Previous discussions went over, and I realized I talk too much!” Fortunately, during an interview, that’s just what is ideal to encounter. Besides, it’s fairly predictable. Those familiar with the boldly queer and unapologetically crass project titled Bottoms—that she collaborated on with Emma Seligman and featured in together with collaborator Ayo Edebiri—will already know that she holds a lot to discuss, be it about gender, relationships, or the merits of starting a youth fight club. Furthermore, by the end the new multi-episode HBO series titled I Love LA, it becomes obvious that the star carries further thoughts on the challenges of Gen Z life (At 30, Sennott is a relatable figure of the gang, straddling eras with a knack for straddling different age groups).
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls are inevitable and Sennott readily acknowledges a fan, referencing it together with the HBO hit, the acclaimed comedy and Donald Glover’s series as inspirations for I Love LA, which details the travails of an influencer Tallulah and her friend who is also aspiring talent manager portrayed by Sennott. Notably, the largest influence on the moodboard was reserved for Entourage, the show focusing on an emerging Hollywood star making his way in a gritty entertainment industry (notable statement: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott started watching it throughout COVID-19, became “captivated”, and resolved to create a new version on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she says. The inspiration for I Love LA emerged—in part—from firsthand, initially rocky, move to LA and from the saturn return, a popular occurrence for astrology heads. It was an era that saw her understand major life lessons, 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 was almost like these biblical tests …”
Growing up in New England, the star commenced writing and performing comedy while studying acting at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” 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. And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott seized control, taking the stage at open mics with Edebiri and posting uproarious (and distinctly) bizarre skits on the internet. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, depicted a group of women intensely obsessed with pregnancy; another imagined working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as similar to being caught in a horror film. By chance, she connected with Emma through the university’s film scene and ultimately appearing in her directorial debut, titled Shiva Baby, a stressful comedy set at a funeral gathering with hints of Uncut Gems. The central motif of her path, she notes, has been peers giving her a shot, as opposed to established gatekeepers. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, adding with a laugh: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Anyone who had doubts regarding Sennott then will surely be regretting it currently. In what she labels a “astonishingly complete” turn of events, she has created her dream vehicle. A few years back she uploaded content titled about Los Angeles online, in which she mocked movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Six years on, she’s the co-showrunner (with Emma Barrie) of a series about LA residents managing the perks of online celebrity (such as celebrating at a celebrity’s house) with its pitfalls (your client being labeled as being a substance-abusing criminal, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). It would be easy to produce a program about online fame that was extremely glamorous—or, even less favorable, one that punched down at the characters. I Love LA does neither, making for a portrait of privileged millennial existence that’s candid 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 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
Elara is a digital artist and designer passionate about blending technology with creativity to inspire others.