The performer enters the video call and immediately starts an excuse. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she exclaims, appearing genuinely apologetic. Despite being only a bit late, she wants to clarify. “My phone conversations always run long.” I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Thankfully, in this context, that’s precisely what you want to hear. Besides, it’s fairly unsurprising. Those who have seen her boldly queer and unapologetically crass film Bottoms—which Sennott collaborated on with Emma Seligman and featured in with close companion Ayo Edebiri—can already know that she holds much to say, be it on gender, sex, or the appeal of forming a youth fight club. Furthermore, after watching her latest seasonal show titled I Love LA, it is clear that the star has further insights on the darker side of Gen Z life (At 30, Sennott is an honorary member of the gang, a tale-end millennial skilled for bridging both generations).
The comparisons to the iconic series Girls can’t be avoided and the actress is an admirer, naming the show together with the classic series, the acclaimed comedy and Donald Glover’s series as influences for the project, which details the journey of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and her friend and fledgling representative portrayed by Sennott. Perhaps, the most significant influence on creative vision belonged to the HBO series, that show focusing on a rising Hollywood star navigating in a corrupt entertainment industry (choice quote: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). Sennott started watching it during COVID-19, became “captivated”, and decided to put her own twist on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“I sought to highlight online platforms as the new industry, since my professional journey launched there,” she notes. The inspiration for I Love LA originated—in part—from firsthand, originally fractious, relocation to Tinseltown and from the cosmic event, a much-talked-about occurrence for enthusiasts. That period marked a phase that saw her learn significant insights, professionally and individually. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Growing up in the East Coast, Sennott began writing and performing stand-up while pursuing theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she explains. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. “I wondered why I was even there at all.”
She took matters into her own hands, performing at live shows with Ayo and sharing hilarious (and very) weird comedy videos online. A particular video, Baby Cult, followed a group of women obsessively obsessed with having babies; another envisioned working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as similar to being stuck in a scary movie. Interestingly, she met Emma through campus film circles and ended up featuring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, a tense dramedy set at a funeral gathering with shades of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The big theme of her career, she says, has been peers offering opportunities, as opposed to established gatekeepers. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, continuing humorously: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who were skeptical about her then will likely be regretting it today. In what she describes as a “astonishingly complete” turn of events, she seems to have created an ideal role. A few years back she shared content called “it’s LA” on the internet, in which she lampooned movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Years later, she’s executive producer (with her partner) of a series about LA residents juggling the perks of online celebrity (such as partying at a famous actor’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being accused of being a substance-abusing criminal, and possibly becoming a unreliable pariah). One might easy to produce a program about digital influence that was horribly aspirational—or, worse, one that punched down at those depicted. I Love LA does neither, creating a portrait of advantaged young adult living that’s honest about the chaos and the glamour.
“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
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