The performer enters the online meeting and immediately launches into an apology. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she exclaims, appearing truly remorseful. Despite being only a couple of minutes behind, she feels compelled to justify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Fortunately, for a writer, this is just what you want to hear. Moreover, it’s quite predictable. Those familiar with the unapologetically LGBTQ+ and brash project Bottoms—that she collaborated on with Emma Seligman and starred in together with collaborator Ayo Edebiri—would be aware that Sennott holds much to say, whether on identity, relationships, or the appeal of creating a high-school fight club. Plus, once you finish the new eight-part show I Love LA, viewers realize that she carries even more thoughts regarding the darker side of young adulthood (As a millennial, Sennott is a bridge for this generation, straddling eras with a knack for straddling different age groups).
Parallels to Lena Dunham’s Girls are inevitable and the actress admits to being an admirer, citing the show together with Sex and the City, the acclaimed comedy and Atlanta as inspirations for the project, which details the struggles of online personality Tallulah and ally who is also fledgling agent Maia. Notably, the biggest presence on concept belonged to the popular sitcom, that HBO sitcom focusing on a rising celebrity navigating in an often-seedy Hollywood (memorable line: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). Sennott started watching it throughout COVID-19, became “obsessed”, and decided to put her own twist on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she notes. The concept for the series came—to some extent—from firsthand, initially rocky, relocation to Tinseltown and from her saturn return, a popular event for followers. It was an era that saw her learn some big life lessons, professionally and individually. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she admits. “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 developing and showcasing humor while enrolled in performance at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she states. “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. “It left me questioning my purpose and place.”
Sennott seized control, taking the stage at live shows with her friend and uploading hysterical (and distinctly) weird online content digitally. A particular video, titled Baby Cult, followed characters intensely obsessed with pregnancy; another envisioned working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as akin to being trapped in a thriller. In a neat twist of fate, she encountered Emma through campus film circles and eventually featuring in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby, an anxious film set at a funeral gathering with hints of Uncut Gems. A recurring idea of her journey, she says, has been contemporaries supporting her, instead of the industry at large. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “Definitely not them”, she confirms, stating with a laugh: “They don’t want us to win.”
Those who had doubts regarding her then will certainly be feeling foolish currently. In what she calls a “incredibly circular” story, she has manifested her dream vehicle. Previously she shared a clip called on LA life on social media, in which she lampooned movie previews (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Years later, she’s the co-showrunner (with the co-writer) of a show about city dwellers juggling benefits of online celebrity (such as socializing at Elijah Wood’s house) with drawbacks (your client being accused of being a intoxicated stealer, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” persona non grata). One might easy to create a show about digital influence that was extremely aspirational—or, worse, one that punched down at the characters. The series steers clear of each, making for a portrait of advantaged twentysomething life that’s candid about the chaos and the appeal.
“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
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