The star enters the digital interview and right away begins an apology. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she states, sounding really apologetic. Although she's only a bit delayed, she wants to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Earlier calls made me late—I just can’t stop chatting!” Thankfully, in this context, this is precisely what one hopes to encounter. Additionally, it’s pretty unsurprising. Viewers who have seen the boldly LGBTQ+ and brash film titled Bottoms—that Sennott collaborated on with her creative partner and featured in together with close companion Ayo Edebiri—can understand that she possesses plenty to say, be it about roles, intimacy, or the pros of starting a high-school combat group. And, once you finish her new seasonal HBO series titled I Love LA, viewers realize that she holds even more thoughts about the challenges of young adulthood (Now in her thirties, she serves as a relatable figure to younger audiences, on the cusp skilled for bridging both generations).
Likenesses to Lena Dunham’s Girls naturally arise and Sennott readily acknowledges enthusiastic, referencing it together with Sex and the City, Insecure and Atlanta as guides for the project, which details the travails of a social media star played by Odessa A’Zion and her friend and fledgling representative Sennott’s character. However, the most significant presence on concept was reserved for the HBO series, the program focusing on a rising celebrity making his way in a corrupt entertainment industry (notable statement: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). Sennott began viewing it during COVID-19, became “captivated”, and decided to add a fresh perspective on it “for the girls and the gays”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she explains. The idea for I Love LA came—in part—from her own, at first fractious, move to LA and from the saturn return, a popular occurrence for astrology heads. That period marked a time that saw her learn significant truths, in her career and personally. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she admits. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Growing up in Connecticut, Sennott began writing and performing humor while enrolled in theatre at NYU’s Tisch. “I went through all the proper channels to try to perform, and they weren’t gelling,” she explains. “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, performing at amateur nights with Edebiri and uploading hilarious (and very) weird online content online. One, Baby Cult, centered on characters intensely fixated on having babies; another portrayed being employed at a trendy retail outlet as similar to being caught in a thriller. By chance, she encountered Seligman through the university’s film scene and ultimately appearing in her directorial debut, titled Shiva Baby, an anxious dramedy set at a funeral gathering with echoes of the Safdie brothers’ movie. A recurring idea of her career, she notes, has been contemporaries giving her a shot, rather than established gatekeepers. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, continuing humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Those who had doubts regarding Sennott previously will surely be regretting it currently. Through she describes as a “wild, full-circle” turn of events, she appears to achieved an ideal role. In 2019 she uploaded content titled on LA life online, in which she mocked film promos (“Substance abuse is rampant here”). Six years on, she’s the co-showrunner (with the co-writer) of a series about LA residents managing benefits of online celebrity (such as partying at a celebrity’s house) with drawbacks (your friend being suspected of being a drug-addled stealer, and possibly becoming a “brand unsafe” pariah). It would be simple to create a program about internet celebrity that was overly idealized—or, more problematic, one that mocked at its subjects. The series avoids both, creating a portrait of privileged twentysomething living that’s frank about the grot 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
A London-based tech analyst and writer with over a decade of experience covering digital transformation and startup ecosystems across Europe.