The star appears on the online meeting and right away launches into an explanation. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she exclaims, appearing really regretful. Although she's only a bit late, 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!” Thankfully, during an interview, that’s just what you want to hear. Additionally, it’s pretty predictable. Viewers familiar with the boldly LGBTQ+ and brash project Bottoms—which she collaborated on with Emma Seligman and featured in alongside her friend the talented actress—would already know that she has plenty to share, be it about gender, relationships, or the merits of creating a teen fight club. Furthermore, by the end the new eight-part HBO series I Love LA, it becomes obvious that the star holds even more perspectives on the darker side of young adulthood (As a millennial, she represents a bridge of the gang, a tale-end millennial adept for bridging both generations).
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show naturally arise and Sennott admits to being a fan, naming it together with the HBO hit, Insecure and Donald Glover’s series as guides for I Love LA, which details the struggles of online personality Tallulah and ally and new agent Sennott’s character. Notably, the most significant spot on the moodboard was reserved for the popular sitcom, that program depicting an up-and-coming A-list actor navigating in a gritty Hollywood (choice quote: “nobody’s happy in this town except for the losers”). Sennott started watching it amid the pandemic, became “obsessed”, and resolved to create a new version on it “targeting women and LGBTQ+ viewers”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she says. The idea for I Love LA originated—in part—from her own, at first rocky, move to Los Angeles and from the astrological phase, a frequently discussed phenomenon for followers. This represented a phase that saw her understand significant life lessons, in her career and individually. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she admits. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. It was almost like these biblical tests …”
Growing up in New England, the star commenced developing and showcasing humor while studying performance at NYU’s Tisch. “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. 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?”
She took matters into her own hands, taking the stage at amateur nights with her friend and sharing hilarious (and decidedly) bizarre skits online. A particular video, Baby Cult, centered on several females fetishistically drawn to pregnancy; another imagined working at the preppy clothing store Hollister as akin to being trapped in a horror film. Interestingly, she encountered Seligman through the university’s film scene and ended up appearing in her first film, Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a funeral gathering with hints of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The central motif of her path, she notes, has been people her own age offering opportunities, as opposed to traditional networks. So the old guard wasn’t helpful? “They were not involved”, she repeats, continuing amusedly: “They prefer we don’t succeed.”
Anyone who had doubts regarding her previously will likely be regretting it currently. In what she describes as a “incredibly circular” development, she seems to have manifested an ideal role. In 2019 she posted a video named on LA life on the internet, in which she mocked movie previews (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Now, she’s a lead creator (with Emma Barrie) of a comedy about city dwellers balancing advantages of internet fame (such as partying at a famous actor’s house) with downsides (your client being suspected of being a drug-addled criminal, and perhaps becoming a unreliable pariah). Some could tempting to produce a show about digital influence that was horribly aspirational—or, more problematic, one that belittled at its subjects. This show does neither, resulting in a representation of affluent young adult living that’s candid about the mess and the appeal.
“There have been a lot of shows that depict young people and their relationship to the internet in this very condescending, hateful way,” 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
Elara is a music journalist and cultural critic with a passion for uncovering emerging artists and trends across genres.