There are moments in life when the only thing left to do is laugh. For filmmaker Renee Story, those moments began in a hospice room—hours spent watching I Love Lucy reruns with her mother, trading heartbreak for humor. Years later, when she and her daughter Chloe Ray set out to make Noble Homes, a comedy about real estate, generational dreams, and the absurdities of modern ambition, it became clear that this wasn’t just another mockumentary. It was an inheritance.

The show—equal parts Selling Sunset and The Office, with a dash of social commentary—was born from the lineage of three women and their shared instinct to find light in dark corners. For Story, producing became a way to honor her late mother’s belief in hard work and homebuilding. For Ray, directing became an act of rebuilding, both literally and metaphorically. When the Eaton Fire tore through their community, displacing neighbors and forever reshaping the landscape, their project—suddenly about real people losing real homes—took on new meaning.

“You never really know how to best honor a family member that means so much to you,” Renee reflects. “But something about making a TV show for her felt right—her best qualities present in every aspect of the project.”

The result is a piece of art that is as funny as it is fierce, a mother-daughter collaboration that treats humor as both inheritance and resistance. Noble Homes finds empathy through absurdity, asking what it means to build—homes, stories, legacies—when the foundation itself feels unstable.

The Inheritance of Humor and Hard Work

For Renee, the notion of home has always been stitched into her DNA — not just as a physical place, but as an act of care. Her parents, who never went to college yet managed to give their children comfort and stability, built the foundation that her life—and eventually her art—would rest upon. Noble Homes is, in many ways, an homage to them: the belief that perseverance and imagination can coexist, and that laughter can sustain us through uncertainty.

“My mom introduced me to I Love Lucy ages ago, and my daughter showed her New Girl in her final years,” Renee recalls. “Comedy television has brought light and laughter to our family when we needed it most.”

That lineage of humor became a kind of inheritance—passed down not as an object but as a way of seeing. For Chloe, growing up in a family that measured life in episodes and punchlines meant that comedy was never superficial; it was survival.
Working with her mother wasn’t always seamless, but it was deeply instinctual. Their shorthand—“Gilmore Girls–esque telepathy,” as Chloe calls it—turned collaboration into choreography.

“We have different yet complementary skill sets that make us quite the duo,” she says. “Of course, we don’t always agree, but we always align on what matters: community, collaboration, and keeping it fun.”

It’s that balance—between discipline and delight, seriousness and satire—that makes Noble Homes feel lived in. Every joke carries the grain of experience, the weight of generations who worked hard, stretched every dollar, and believed that home was something you could build with your own two hands.

Reimagining the American Dream

When Renee came of age, homeownership was an inevitability—the crown jewel of the American Dream. For her daughter’s generation, that dream feels increasingly out of reach. Through Noble Homes, the two explore that shift, pairing humor with heartbreak to show how ideals evolve with time.

“Working with younger artists opened my eyes to just how much the world has shifted for them,” Renee says. “The path to the so-called American dream feels a million times steeper and less certain than it did for my generation.”

Set within the glossy absurdity of real estate culture, Noble Homes turns its lens toward the contradictions of modern aspiration. Beneath the jokes about open houses and competitive brokers lies a sharp social awareness: the widening gap between those who can afford stability and those left behind by it.
Chloe’s perspective grounds that critique with empathy. She grew up in communities reshaped by gentrification, watching small-town rhythms give way to seasonal tourism and speculative development. When the Eaton Fire devastated their hometown—displacing neighbors, destroying homes, and erasing landmarks—it wasn’t lost on her that life was mirroring art.

“It felt irresponsible for us to make this show without acknowledging the people who have been displaced due to gentrification,” Chloe explains. “The complexity of our lovable cast also being community antagonists felt authentic—real-life absurdities began to write episodes themselves.”

What emerges is a satire with soul—a show that understands that humor and heartbreak are twin expressions of hope. Beneath the wit, Noble Homes holds a quiet grief for what’s been lost and a fierce affection for what might still be rebuilt.

Humor as Resistance

Humor, for both Renee and Chloe, isn’t merely entertainment — it’s endurance. It’s a means of staying human when the world feels uncertain, and a quiet rebellion against despair. After the Eaton Fire, when their community was reduced to ash, laughter became a way to breathe again. The very premise of Noble Homes — a comedy about displacement and belonging — became an act of reclamation.

“Being able to smile and make a joke is proof to yourself that you are stronger than you think,” Chloe says. “You’re still standing, breathing, and smiling—things could always get worse.”

It’s a philosophy that transforms humor into a survival instinct, one sharpened by grief and softened by empathy. While the mockumentary format might suggest irony or detachment, the pair approach it as something closer to communion. Each absurd beat — each awkward glance into the camera — is a reminder that connection is still possible, even amid chaos.

“Satire is best used to promote empathy,” they explain. “It’s an incredibly powerful tool, which is why for Noble Homes, our goal is to use absurdity to highlight that everyone—even your worst enemy—deserves a roof over their head and a place to call home.”

That ethos sets Noble Homes apart from its genre peers. It’s less about ridicule and more about recognition — the kind of laughter that nods knowingly, the kind that acknowledges the pain beneath the punchline. Their humor isn’t escapist; it’s restorative. It invites audiences to look at modern life — the broken promises of prosperity, the absurd rituals of real estate, the shared longing for home — and find solidarity in the silliness.

At its heart, their comedy insists on something radical: that empathy can be funny, and that laughter, when wielded with intention, is one of the most powerful forms of resistance we have.

Legacy, Collaboration, and What Comes Next

For Renee and Chloe, collaboration has become its own kind of home — a space built from mutual respect and the unspoken rhythm that only exists between family. Together, they’ve learned to navigate creative clashes with the same care they bring to their storytelling, understanding that tension, when handled with grace, can be productive.

“Many perspectives make a better show,” they say. “When clashing, we try to remain respectful and professional, fighting for the best of the project, and leaving anything personal to the side. At the end of the day, we’re just making silly TV—and enjoying the process can be as essential, if not more, than the outcome.”

That joy is evident in their work. Noble Homes moves with the looseness of laughter, the intimacy of collaboration, and the kind of creative alchemy that can only exist between two people who know each other deeply. Renee’s grounding force—her pragmatism, her reverence for legacy—meets Chloe’s visionary spirit and social awareness. One brings the structure; the other brings the spark.

“Through this process, I’ve gained not only new knowledge and production experience from my daughter, but an understanding and profound respect for her craft and artistry,” Renee says. “Watching her work—witnessing her focus, her intuition, and the way she leads with both heart and vision—has been a great privilege.”

Chloe echoes the sentiment with affection. “Some of her initial ideas seemed impossible to pull off at this scale,” she says, “but the more we spoke about those hopes and took action toward making them a reality, I was surprised to learn what we were truly capable of.”

Together, they’ve built something rare—a story that is at once deeply personal and universally resonant. And while Noble Homes is only the beginning (the duo is already in post-production on a new project, CREEPY AF), the heart of their work remains the same: to make art that uplifts others, to tell stories that restore dignity and belonging.

“At its core,” they say, “our show is a reminder that everybody deserves a home. A home isn’t just shelter; it’s dignity, security, and the foundation for a solid life.”

In a world where stability often feels out of reach, Noble Homes reminds us that home can also be found in the act of creating — in the stories we tell, the laughter we share, and the people who help us build something beautiful out of the ashes.

Credits:

Photography by Cathryn Farnsworth

Hair and Makeup by Cherie Combs

Nails by Julie Ta Melody Nails