I Love LA premiered on HBO Max, aiming to occupy the territory once ruled by Insecure, Sex and the City, Girls, and And Just Like That. The very fact that it can be mentioned alongside four shows with similar ambitions could undermine its originality—but in truth, it feels like a rite of passage. Every generation tries to find itself through a new series set in a city of mythic weight —be it New York or Los Angeles —and through the lens of personal and professional awakening. The challenge is obvious: how do you reinvent a story we’ve already lived? The sense of déjà vu is inevitable—but this one still has potential.

Created by and starring Rachel Sennott, I Love LA draws directly from her own experiences; she has openly said she “used to hate Los Angeles before learning to love it.” That contradiction is the show’s backbone. Rather than a love letter to the city, the series is an ironic meditation on authenticity in a place built on performance. Directed by Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), the eight-episode season follows a group of friends trying to navigate ambition, friendship, and emotional burnout in the digital-era Hollywood hustle.

Sennott plays Maia, a young talent agent (or an aspiring one) who reconnects with her former best friend, Tallulah (Odessa A’zion), now a social media star. The ensemble also includes Jordan Firstman, True Whitaker, Leighton Meester, and Josh Hutcherson, who replaced Miles Robbins after creative changes during production. The chemistry among them is chaotic and endearing, driving a tone that’s both self-aware and painfully relatable.

The show’s DNA clearly traces back to Girls—especially in the way Sennott ridicules her own persona while laying bare her vulnerabilities—but with the glossy speed of an Instagram reel. Scafaria’s camera paints Los Angeles as both radiant and hollow, where every brunch, party, or pitch meeting is perfectly lit yet emotionally barren. Nothing feels truly spontaneous, and that’s precisely the point.

Critics have been divided but intrigued. The Washington Post praised the show’s freshness and Sennott’s honest portrayal of anxiety and self-doubt, while Variety and Elle highlighted her unique “author-actress” approach—someone exploring fame and loneliness with humor and self-awareness. Other outlets found it a bit too polished, arguing that it mirrors its predecessors more than it reinvents them.

Still, there’s something irresistible about I Love LA’s attempt to capture the uneasy comedy of contemporary life. Sennott isn’t interested in heroines; she gives us women who are messy, funny, sometimes unbearable—and entirely human.

The result is a comedy about the quiet collapse of people who live to be seen. It’s a mirror for our moment: a generation turning vulnerability into content and friendship into currency. And if it all feels familiar, maybe that’s exactly the point—each era believing it’s the first to feel lost under the Californian sun.