The star enters the video call and at once launches into an explanation. “Oh my God – I’m sorry!” she says, sounding truly apologetic. Although she's only a couple of minutes late, she feels compelled to clarify. “I have such a problem, because I’m a yapper on the phone. 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 hear. Moreover, it’s quite expected. Viewers who know the boldly LGBTQ+ and outspoken project Bottoms—which she collaborated on with her creative partner and featured in alongside collaborator The Bear’s standout—would understand that Sennott has a lot to share, whether about identity, intimacy, or the pros of forming a high-school fight club. Furthermore, once you finish her new seasonal show titled I Love LA, viewers realize that she carries even more insights on the darker side of young adulthood (Now in her thirties, she is a relatable figure of the gang, straddling eras adept for bridging millennials and Gen Z).
Parallels to the iconic series Girls naturally arise and the actress readily acknowledges an admirer, naming it in addition to the classic series, the acclaimed comedy and the innovative program as inspirations for I Love LA, which details the journey of an influencer Tallulah and her friend who is also fledgling agent Maia. However, the biggest presence on the moodboard went to the HBO series, the program about a rising Hollywood star succeeding in an often-seedy Hollywood (notable statement: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). She began viewing it throughout the pandemic, became “hooked”, and resolved to put her own twist on it “for the girls and the gays”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she explains. The idea for I Love LA emerged—in part—from her own, originally fractious, move to LA and from the astrological phase, a much-talked-about occurrence for followers. It was an era that included her learn some big life lessons, work-wise and personally. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she recalls. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Brought up in the East Coast, the star started developing and showcasing comedy while studying theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she says. “I tried out for all the NYU comedy groups, and got rejected from all of them. I tried out for all the NYU plays and didn’t make it into any of them. And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott decided to act independently, taking the stage at open mics with Edebiri and posting hilarious (and decidedly) unconventional online content digitally. One, Baby Cult, followed a group of women obsessively fixated on pregnancy; a different one portrayed being employed at the brand Hollister as similar to being caught in a thriller. In a neat twist of fate, she encountered Seligman through NYU’s movie community and ended up starring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, an anxious film set at a Jewish wake with echoes of the intense thriller. A recurring idea of her path, she notes, has been people her own age giving her a shot, instead of established gatekeepers. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Definitely not them”, she emphasizes, continuing amusedly: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who questioned regarding her then will likely be regretting it now. In what she labels a “incredibly circular” story, she has manifested an ideal role. Previously she posted a video titled on LA life on social media, in which she parodied movie previews (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Six years on, she’s a lead creator (with her partner) of a comedy about city dwellers juggling advantages of digital stardom (such as partying at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your associate being labeled as being a intoxicated stealer, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” outcast). It would be tempting to create a series about online fame that was overly aspirational—or, even less favorable, one that punched down at those depicted. I Love LA steers clear of each, making for a representation of privileged young adult existence that’s frank about the chaos and the shine.
“Many programs portray youth and online life with disdain and mockery,” 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
A tech journalist and digital anthropologist focusing on the societal impacts of emerging technologies and online communities.