Beyond the boys, there are some women who are eyeing your virgin crown.
The early 2000s saw a spate of successful film and television comedies about men who didn’t want to grow up. Think Judd Apatow movies with Steve Carell and Seth Rogen, or sitcoms starring Charlie Sheen. The humor was in their silly antics, their refusal to conform to adult standards, and their many fart jokes.
But with the arrival of HBO’s new comedy I Love LA (Sunday, 10:30 p.m. ET/PT, ★1/2 out of 4), we’ve entered the era of female childhood. Instead of reckless chest waxing, they’re catfighting in TikTok videos, complaining on the phone to their parents, and stealing expensive wallets. Created by and starring Rachel Sennott, of Internet “It Girl” fame and films such as “Saturday Night” and “Shiva Baby,” the series is a chronically online, masturbatory (literally and figuratively) prestige television fantasy.
And while the peek into the influencer world, Hollywood hedonism, and Gen Z woes is worthwhile, “LA” doesn’t add any important lenses or points. Sennott and his co-stars speak with frustratingly false emotion, are shallower than a desert puddle, and prize selfishness, laziness, and artifice. The boring stories the show builds around them add no insight or substance.
As the title suggests, “LA,” set in Los Angeles, dips into the world of new media fame and influencer culture rather than the glamorous world of A-list Hollywood. There, a simple Instagram Story can net you $30,000 for the right person, but a takedown video by a fellow influencer can spell disaster and cost you a brand deal. Unless you are a part of this world (online or in-person), it will be a completely foreign language to you. As a general concept, it’s fine. Not all art needs to be universal in its particular setting. But a successful work of art or entertainment must be authentic and relatable in its emotional range, even when the circumstances are completely foreign.
“LA” is so caught up in its cool-girl aesthetic and party-all-night vibe that you can’t find an authentic vibe anywhere in its eight-episode first season. The main character, Maia (Senott), is an aspiring talent manager in the City of Angels who guides her best friend Talulah (Odessa Azion) to internet fame, but is quickly left by the wayside as Talulah’s star rises. Stuck as an assistant on her 27th birthday, Maia is penniless and looking to her former best friend for help, but when Talulah reenters her life, she’s ready to take on bigger and better things.
“LA” follows Maia as she chases Talulah and tries to limit the damage caused by Starr’s antics. Maia enlists the help of her friend Charlie (Jordan Firstman), a stylist to pop stars, and Alani (True Whitaker), an aimless film industry nepot baby. Also with them is Maia’s teacher boyfriend Dylan, played by The Hunger Games star Josh Hutcherson, 33, who despite being only three years older than Sennott, seems decidedly an old flirt and seems out of place with the kids. All of Maia’s friends are just as bland and boring as she is. Dylan is the only semi-acceptable character, but he lacks a lot in terms of personality, other than loving Maia and occasionally reading nerdy history books.
It’s not just that the characters in “LA” are unlikable; There are many good stories about horrible people. HBO’s 2000s and 2010s comedies “Entourage” and “Girls,” perhaps the most similar to “LA,” were popular but divisive precisely because of their often annoying protagonists. But they had interesting stories to tell, sharp writing, and unique perspectives. “LA” has a hard time deciding whether to be satirical or sincere, whether to hate or love the cast, despite their many flaws. Amidst the haze of cocaine, booze, and TikTok videos, there are moments of clarity when there seems to be more important things than highlighting Gen Z’s shallowness. But any moment of nuance disappears as quickly as scrolling through an uninspiring Instagram reel.
Sennott and Azion, in particular, are clearly talented up-and-coming actresses, but they can’t elevate the material about rich kids with money but no empathy or common sense. All of this is a little hard to swallow, especially in the midst of headlines about how poor Americans could lose food aid.
Sennott and company may love LA, but it’s hard to imagine the city or anyone else loving them back.
