The star joins the online meeting and at once launches into an excuse. “Apologies for the delay!” she states, sounding truly regretful. She is only a couple of minutes behind, she feels compelled to justify. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Previous discussions went over, and I realized I talk too much!” Luckily, during an interview, that’s just what is ideal to experience. Additionally, it’s quite unsurprising. Viewers who know her boldly LGBTQ+ and outspoken movie Bottoms—that she penned with the director and starred in together with her friend Ayo Edebiri—will understand that she possesses plenty to share, ranging from about roles, relationships, or the merits of starting a teen fight club. Furthermore, after watching the recent seasonal program I Love LA, it becomes obvious that she has further insights on the darker side of young adulthood (As a millennial, she is a relatable figure for this generation, on the cusp with a knack for connecting millennials and Gen Z).
Likenesses to the iconic series Girls are inevitable and the actress readily acknowledges enthusiastic, citing it together with the classic series, the acclaimed comedy and Donald Glover’s series as guides for her series, which details the struggles of an influencer Tallulah and close companion who is also aspiring talent manager Maia. Perhaps, the biggest influence on the moodboard belonged to Entourage, that HBO sitcom depicting an up-and-coming celebrity making his way in a corrupt Hollywood (choice quote: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). She started watching it amid lockdown, became “hooked”, and decided 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 idea for this project originated—to some extent—from her own, initially rocky, relocation to Los Angeles and from the astrological phase, a much-talked-about event for followers. That period marked a phase that involved her understand major insights, professionally and personally. “My twenties began with constant public emotional outbursts and disorganization,” she admits. “Settling in LA during my mid-twenties brought calm, but soon everything unraveled.” “It resembled a series of extreme challenges…”
Brought up in Connecticut, Sennott began writing and performing stand-up while enrolled in acting at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she explains. “Auditions for university comedy troupes led to universal rejection. “Theatre productions at school also didn’t accept me. And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
She decided to act independently, appearing at amateur nights with Edebiri and uploading hysterical (and distinctly) weird comedy videos online. One, Baby Cult, depicted a group of women fetishistically fixated on pregnancy; a different one portrayed working at a trendy retail outlet as akin to being trapped in a horror film. By chance, she met Emma through NYU’s movie community and ended up featuring in her initial project, Shiva Baby, an anxious comedy set at a religious event with echoes of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The central motif of her journey, she explains, has been people her own age giving her a shot, instead of the industry at large. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Definitely not them”, she confirms, stating amusedly: “They don’t want us to win.”
Anyone who had doubts regarding her then will surely be regretting it today. In what she calls a “incredibly circular” development, she appears to manifested the perfect project. A few years back she posted content named about Los Angeles on social media, in which she parodied movie previews (“I’m addicted to drugs – we all are”). Now, she’s a lead creator (with Emma Barrie) of a series about Angelenos balancing benefits of internet fame (such as partying at a celebrity’s house) with its pitfalls (your associate being labeled as being a intoxicated criminal, and perhaps becoming a “brand unsafe” outcast). One might simple to produce a show about online fame that was horribly aspirational—or, worse, one that mocked at those depicted. I Love LA steers clear of each, resulting in a depiction of privileged young adult existence that’s frank about the mess and the shine.
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” 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
Elara is a passionate gamer and tech enthusiast with over a decade of experience in the gaming industry, specializing in indie game reviews and community building.