The performer appears on the online meeting and at once starts an explanation. “Apologies for the delay!” she says, appearing really remorseful. Despite being only a bit behind, she needs to justify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Luckily, in this context, this is precisely what one hopes to experience. Additionally, it’s pretty expected. Anyone who know the unapologetically openly gay and outspoken movie titled Bottoms—that she penned with her creative partner and appeared in together with close companion Ayo Edebiri—will already know that Sennott possesses much to discuss, whether about identity, intimacy, or the appeal of creating a high-school fight club. Furthermore, by the end her recent eight-part program titled I Love LA, it is clear that she has further thoughts regarding the challenges of young adulthood (As a millennial, Sennott is a relatable figure of the gang, straddling eras adept for bridging both generations).
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show naturally arise and the actress readily acknowledges a fan, naming the show together with the HBO hit, Issa Rae’s show and Donald Glover’s series as guides for the project, which tracks the journey of an influencer Tallulah and ally and aspiring agent Sennott’s character. However, the largest presence on the moodboard belonged to the popular sitcom, the program about a rising Hollywood star navigating in a corrupt Hollywood (notable statement: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott started watching it throughout the pandemic, became “captivated”, and chose 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 says. The concept for this project originated—partly—from firsthand, at first rocky, move to LA and from her saturn return, a much-talked-about phenomenon for enthusiasts. It was an era that included her learn some big truths, work-wise and individually. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she says. “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 the East Coast, Sennott began developing and showcasing comedy while enrolled in performance 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.” I tried out for all the NYU plays and didn’t make it into any of them. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
She seized control, appearing at live shows with Ayo and posting uproarious (and decidedly) unconventional online content online. A particular video, Baby Cult, centered on several females obsessively fixated on motherhood; another envisioned being employed at the brand Hollister as similar to being trapped in a scary movie. Interestingly, she met Emma through campus film circles and ultimately appearing in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a religious event with echoes of Uncut Gems. A recurring idea of her journey, she notes, has been contemporaries offering opportunities, rather than traditional networks. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Not the gatekeepers”, she repeats, continuing humorously: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Individuals who were skeptical regarding Sennott earlier will surely be kicking themselves currently. Through she labels a “incredibly circular” development, she seems to have manifested an ideal role. A few years back she posted a video named on LA life online, in which she mocked Hollywood trailers (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s the co-showrunner (with her partner) of a comedy about Angelenos balancing advantages of online celebrity (such as socializing at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your client being accused of being a drug-addled thief, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” outcast). One might tempting to create a show about internet celebrity that was overly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that belittled at the characters. I Love LA does neither, creating a depiction of advantaged twentysomething living that’s candid 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 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 tech strategist with over a decade of experience in IT consulting, specializing in business continuity and digital transformation.