The performer enters the video call and at once begins an apology. “I can’t believe I’m late!” she states, seeming genuinely regretful. Despite being only a bit delayed, she feels compelled to explain. “My phone conversations always run long.” “Previous discussions went over, and I realized I talk too much!” Fortunately, during an interview, this is just what is ideal to encounter. Besides, it’s fairly predictable. Those who have seen the unapologetically queer and brash project titled Bottoms—which she collaborated on with her creative partner and starred in with collaborator The Bear’s standout—would be aware that she has much to say, whether on gender, intimacy, or the appeal of creating a teen brawl society. Plus, once you finish the new multi-episode HBO series titled I Love LA, it is clear that the star has additional perspectives on the struggles of young adulthood (Now in her thirties, she represents an honorary member for this generation, a tale-end millennial skilled for bridging different age groups).
The comparisons to Lena Dunham’s groundbreaking show can’t be avoided and the actress readily acknowledges an admirer, naming it together with the HBO hit, Issa Rae’s show and the innovative program as inspirations for I Love LA, which follows the struggles of an influencer Tallulah and her friend and new agent Maia. Notably, the biggest influence on the moodboard went to Entourage, the show about a rising Hollywood star making his way in a corrupt Hollywood (memorable line: “happiness eludes everyone but failures in this city”). She began viewing it throughout the pandemic, became “hooked”, and chose to add a fresh perspective 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 explains. The inspiration for I Love LA emerged—in part—from firsthand, originally difficult, transition to LA and from her cosmic event, a frequently discussed phenomenon for enthusiasts. It was a phase that saw her understand significant life lessons, professionally and in private life. “In my early 20s I was so messy, crying in public everywhere, all the time,” she says. “In my mid-20s, I moved to LA and got settled. And then I felt like everything started to just fall apart. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Brought up in Connecticut, the star began developing and showcasing humor while pursuing acting at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “Despite trying every conventional route, I couldn’t find my footing,” she explains. “Every campus humor group turned me down after tryouts.” “None of the university plays cast me either.” And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
Sennott decided to act independently, performing at amateur nights with Ayo and sharing hilarious (and decidedly) unconventional comedy videos digitally. One, Baby Cult, followed several females obsessively drawn to pregnancy; a different one envisioned being employed at the preppy clothing store Hollister as akin to being trapped in a scary movie. By chance, she encountered Emma through campus film circles and eventually featuring in her first film, titled Shiva Baby, an anxious film set at a Jewish wake with hints of the Safdie brothers’ movie. The big theme of her path, she explains, has been people her own age giving her a shot, rather than the industry at large. Does that mean bypassing the usual powers? “Not the gatekeepers”, she repeats, continuing with a laugh: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Individuals who were skeptical regarding her previously will likely be kicking themselves now. In what she calls a “wild, full-circle” development, she appears to achieved an ideal role. In 2019 she uploaded content titled about Los Angeles on the internet, in which she mocked film promos (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Six years on, she’s a lead creator (with the co-writer) of a comedy about city dwellers managing benefits of digital stardom (such as celebrating at Elijah Wood’s house) with downsides (your associate being accused of being a intoxicated criminal, and potentially becoming a risky persona non grata). Some could tempting to produce a show about internet celebrity that was extremely idealized—or, worse, one that punched down at the characters. I Love LA does neither, making for a representation of advantaged young adult living that’s frank about the chaos and the appeal.
“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
Elena is a tax policy analyst with over a decade of experience in interpreting IRS data and advocating for taxpayer rights.