But Do We Love LA?

Photo by Jay Dixit via Wikimedia Commons (licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0)

Rachel Sennott’s ‘I Love LA’ was caught in a whirlwind of cast discourse even before it was released. During the premiere and release of the show, which has otherwise been in the public eye as ‘Untitled Rachel Sennott Project’, the title ‘I Love LA’ was revealed for a show about a group of twenty-somethings in the influencer marketing industry. Rachel Sennott’s character, Maia, works at a talent agency and takes up her newly returned ex-best friend, Tallulah, as her client, as the show follows their turbulent relationship as well as Tallulah’s career trajectory. Her friends Charlie (Jordan Firstman) and Alani (True Whitaker) are vicariously in the film industry as Charlie is a celebrity stylist and Alani is a nepo baby with a fake title at her father’s production company. The only exception to this world is Maia’s boyfriend Dylan, played by Josh Hutcherson, who is a teacher. 

Usually the internet’s ‘It Girl’, Sennott’s work has not been met with scrutiny of this nature before since her previous projects (the most celebrated being Shiva Baby (2020) and Bottoms (2023)) were set in the company of quite a few racially and sexually diverse characters. She played a bisexual Jewish character in Shiva Baby, and her character in Bottoms was one-half of the Lesbian best friends who start a fight club at school (the second half being Ayo Edebiri). The target demographics of such projects, along with the unapologetically yet characteristically dry humour, have cemented her as a fresh voice in comedy - not only in a Rotten Tomatoes way, she really is fresh! 

She has been unanimously loved by target audiences, until I Love LA. During the press run, many Angelenos pointed out the lack of Hispanic representation in the cast for a show that is set in Los Angeles, a city where half of the population is Latin. I mean, it’s literally called Los Angeles. People are justifiably surprised; following the 2020s wave of wokeism, we have had conversations about representation so often that it should have been the rule of thumb by now. All except one character (True Whitaker’s) are White in the main cast, which begs many questions, but one especially: can this cool, offhanded freshness that Rachel Sennott has been so loved for only be reserved for her White audiences? As a sitcom, it feels even odder since recent successful sitcoms have boasted diverse casts, just take ABC’s Abbott Elementary or even Hulu and FX’s Adults. It’s hard to not think that this project has been compromised due to Sennott’s reputation as a creator rather than her proven integrity as one. Two hits do not cement a generational talent, but in an environment where people with two hits are getting world tours and overnight fandoms, Rachel feels like a Gen-Z pillar in Hollywood. But audiences are quickly looking past this persona.

The question is not “why are there so few people of colour in your story?”, it is “why is it a challenge to write more than one person of colour in your main cast?”. What makes this choice tonally even more questionable is the current political climate, as ICE raids are tearing LA to shreds due to the return of moral panics over immigration. It feels like an environment in which creators with a platform should be going out of their way to make political statements and protect the Hispanic communities that have long been part of the history of Los Angeles. This does re-trigger the discourse about an artist’s responsibilities in the postmodern age and how audiences inadvertently and parasocially expect them to shoulder political responsibilities. It is really interesting too how the same discourses that usually swallow LA’s celebrities and media are the ones now attacking a show called ‘I Love LA’ in a meta way. 

Speaking of this culturally meta curse, many audiences of colour have said that this isn’t a show that we should be expecting diversity from. It is a show made by a White writer and actress about the transplant influencer scene — it’s bound to be White! In an industry that rewards whiteness, how many Latina influencers are actually able to make it big? It seems unrealistic to expect diverse representation in an industry where success is racially gatekept. Some audiences have even drawn comparisons to the sitcom Friends, saying how it was a good microcosm of a White friend group in 90s New York (as people who would racially self-segregate), and also commenting on their lack of confidence in the writers to humanistically portray main characters of colour at that time. The point of the creator making a show accurate to the world she navigates first-hand has also caused people to redirect their attention based on what they are looking for: you have to look at creators of colour to get authentic, well-written stories about characters of colour. At the end of the day, this show is about an environment most people are fascinated and easily captivated by - whether it be for its literal entertainment or passive drama - and it should serve that aspect well rather than external expectations.

When it comes to the actual show, I would say it is quite fifty-fifty. There are only three episodes out right now, but it feels like getting to know a crush you get less sure of liking the more you know about them. I love the concept of the show: I think Sennott’s writing voice is perfect for it. It doesn’t take itself too seriously; it is equal parts absurd and entertaining. It is still frustrating, though. There is no reason to care for any of these characters; they are all quite annoying. So far, Alani and Charlie (the only two minority characters, to keep score) have added nothing to the main plot and only exist as accessories to Maia (and I guess token representation, but we can hold our tongue on that for a few more episodes). Maia and Tallulah’s friendship does remind me of one of my own, which gives me somewhat of a hook to keep watching, but do I really care? I thought I didn’t, but then they had a very charming Ayo Edebiri cameo in the second episode, which made me realise a core aspect of the show: it is subpar until the actors offer you their best. It is a script heavily dependent on its cast’s delivery of the jokes, where actors like True Whitaker and Jordan Firstman, despite their lack of screen time, really shine. I enjoy the crassness of a lot of the humour, even if it can come off as performative. 

Most of all, I think it is a good take on LA from an outsider’s perspective, who would only really notice the Erewhon and Hollywood sign of it all. A lot of reviews have said that the show takes time to find its footing, but ends much stronger. Still, as someone who is radically pro-representation, I can’t help but think that this show is a bit of a letdown, and that if anything, it would only have more flavour and character with more colour. I find it difficult to understand how writing about people of colour is a challenge for White writers who are friends with people of colour in real life. Surely, your friends are not alien to you, right? I mean, I can only hope. American cities are still only a concept to me.

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Edited by Lara Walsh, Co-Film & TV Editor