Noblestone

The quirky caretaker is back in this somewhat sequel to Lady Governess, a humble indie feature from Tito Wiley, now penning and directing as Albert Goya. The sibling dynamic is back, with the filmmaker’s sister Lucia Goya-Betts playing both onscreen roles (albeit with some cinematic sleight-of-hand to keep us guessing). 

In Noblestone, Karen (Goya-Betts) takes another job helping a lonely woman as a housemaid. Her new employer (also Goya-Betts) is a frustrated artist whose anxiety over her lack of drive and being able to finish paintings makes her the perfect companion to our otherworldly Karen - who sports her signature brightly coloured wig and shrieking voice. As the pair engage in a fairly affable initial friendship, the atmosphere in the house becomes increasingly tense as the relationship develops. 

There is something offbeat and unsettling about Goya’s latest film that is oddly compelling, as well as having a whimsical charm during its moments of comedy. A particular highlight of Noblestone is how comically bad the woman’s paintings are; imagine toddler attempts, and you are somewhere in the right ballpark. But Goya and Goya-Betts are not content in simply delivering slapstick gags and outlandish antics (of which there are many); there are tender moments of character connection, as well as a few sparkling moments of poignancy. A scene whereby Karen plays an artistic composition of her own on the piano whilst the camera stays on her employer is absolutely breathtaking and totally unexpected. 

Cinematically, Noblestone peppers its zero-budget aesthetic with some cracking shots (such as the image above). Filmed in both London and Spain, the wonderful landscape of the latter utterly soaks the screen in natural beauty, whereas the interior shots are laden with warm beauty. The opening sequence of the film felt downright Hitchcockian in its tonal splendour, a perfectly entrancing way of pulling the audience into this strange story. The music is brilliantly used to enhance the piece, often capturing a classic cinema aura that transcends the period it’s been made in. 

Where Noblestone struggles is its languishing pace at times and the dialogue that often tries to be too profound for its own good. Overlong scenes of the pair waxing lyrical about everything from art to the human condition become repetitive and threaten the tension being built between the two characters. It also feels all too familiar for anyone who has seen Lady Governess, a spiritual twin in almost every aspect. 

That being said, much like critic Joe Beck’s previous praise for Lady Governess, the fact that Goya is still a teenager makes Noblestone an incredible feat. Very few indie filmmakers (of any age) can produce a feature-length film as unique and curiously compelling as this. Noblestone takes some important steps into the horror/thriller genre for Goya, this being a fractionally darker and more sinister tale that belies its humble budget, sustaining and executing a worthy piece of original cinema (albeit not original if you have seen its predecessor).