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Hell in a Handbag Productions celebrates its 25th year with a revival of Joan Crawford Goes to Hell, a sharp, mischievous look at the Hollywood icon through the company’s signature parody lens. It is truly perfect timing that Handbag's guiding force David Cerda has chosen to do this play in the hellish year of 2026. First staged in 1999 by Sweetback Productions, the show is currently staged at The Clutch with a fresh cast and a renewed appetite for chaos, blending biography, satire, and Crawford’s own self-mythologizing into a hypnotic, magnificent, and powerfully funny indictment of one of Hollywood’s greatest movie stars. It’s a wildly funny show, bristling with the kind of big, brazen laughs that Handbag delivers better than anyone. The premise is simple and delicious: Joan Crawford dies and lands in hell, where she’s forced to relive scenes from her life as filtered through daughter Christina’s memories, including the indelible Mommie Dearest moments, from the wire hanger tirade to the all-out battle royale between mother and daughter. 

One of the show’s sharpest structural choices is the way it pits Christina’s Mommie Dearest against Joan’s own memoir, My Way of Life. Each woman clings to her version of the truth, and the production amplifies that contradiction by having the characters volley excerpts from their respective accounts. Christina’s recollections paint a childhood marked by significant acts of child abuse and cruelty, while Joan counters with polished, self‑protective passages that insist on glamour, discipline, and maternal devotion. The back‑and‑forth becomes a theatrical tug‑of‑war over legacy itself. The truth is, legacy is all that was important to Joan Crawford because she cared more about public perception than her own children. 

Handbag’s reimagining of the most unforgettable Mommie Dearest moments hits home in both comedy and tragedy, reminding us why those scenes have stayed lodged in the cultural imagination for decades.

(left to right) Gretchen Greear and Anna Rose Steinmayer in Hell in a Handbag Productions’ revival of Joan Crawford Goes To Hell.

With Christina and Joan locked in a battle over whose version of the truth will prevail, Handbag pushes the idea even further: Joan isn’t embodied by just one performer. She’s split into three distinct incarnations, each capturing a different era and emotional temperature. David Cerda, as Joan #1, the older, not-so-remorseful, excuse-making Joan who has just passed away, delights everyone in the role with a wry, sardonic comic edge (and yes, Handbag finds a way to even make a deathbed funny). Gretchen Greear steps in as Joan #2, the impeccably polished Hollywood star, while Nicholas Ian unleashes Joan #3, the volatile, larger-than-life tempest with a hair-trigger temper. Together, the trio creates a lively rotation that keeps the show moving and underscores the contradictions that fueled Crawford’s public image. I really enjoyed watching the three Joans bounce off one another – the interplay keeps the show unpredictable in the best way.

By splitting Joan Crawford into three personalities, the production sharpens our view of the forces pressing in on her - Hollywood’s unforgiving demands, the intimidation she faced under MGM studio head Louis B. Mayer, and the specter of financial ruin - all seen through Christina’s spooky, subjective retelling of her mother’s life. 

And Cerda, now back as his premiere character Joan Crawford, also recorded an album called The Joans back in 2001, and the music is used in this play. Having also been in a band at the time we met, I remember feeling an immediate connection with David - a kind of gay fairy godmother - from the first time I heard him elicit enormous laughs from his loving audiences through Joan’s curling blood‑red lips. 

(left to right) Haley Gillman,Nicholas Ian and Ryan Kenny.

Joan’s remorse is fleeting at best. The production makes it clear that even when she’s forced to relive the worst moments of her life, including the cruelty toward Christina, the chaos she inflicted on friends, and the emotional wreckage she left behind, she rarely accepts responsibility. Instead, she pivots, excuses, reframes, or outright denies, often doubling down on the very behaviors that landed her in trouble in the first place. When Joan Crawford is asked if she had any regrets about her dramatic life decisions, she answers with a martini dry, rock solid “absolutely not” that millions of women from her generation to the present will all echo with a fury. Handbag plays this not as tragedy but as sharp comedy: Joan’s instinct for self-preservation is so strong that the devil himself can’t pry a sincere apology out of her. The result is funny, pointed, and perfectly in line with the company’s parody style.

At the same time, the play doesn’t ignore the darker realities of Crawford’s life. Even though Joan Crawford was accused of severe child abuse by two of her adopted children, the play also acknowledges that a woman alone in the world at that time - especially one operating at her level of Hollywood fame and power - would have faced enormous pressure, mind‑bending double standards, and relentless scrutiny, including outright sexist abuse both behind the scenes and sometimes in public. 

I’ve always appreciated Handbag’s knack for casting performers who can land both the joke and the heart of a moment, and this group embodies that beautifully. A steady, clear‑eyed anchor comes through in TJ O’Brien’s performance as Adult Christina, while Haley Gillman supplies a youthful spark as her younger counterpart. As Carol Ann, Ryan Kenny delivers some of the evening’s most reliable laughs, playing a maid whose patience seems almost supernatural. Lori Lee steps into a few sharply etched roles, including Helga, a housemaid and recipient of Crawford’s iconic “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the dirt” line, and Al Steele, the Pepsi executive who became Crawford’s fourth husband.

Good-natured and genial, Michael Rashid’s Greg brings an easy charm to the MGM lawyer who helped facilitate Christina’s adoption, though even he eventually reaches his limit with the Crawford tumult. A devilish glint runs through Nick Dorado’s turn as Mr. Deville, guiding Joan through her infernal afterlife, while Anna Rose Steinmayer and Tyler Calhoun add texture throughout the ensemble.

The magnificent projections, beautifully designed by DJ Douglass, deliciously underscore how much of Crawford’s power came from the control of her face - the slick black rolls of shiny hair, the hours of evenly applied makeup, the sweet yet searing expressions, those magnificent, even terrifying eyes. She quite literally had to possess the “looks that kill” to survive the jungle of Hollywood. The projections draw from multiple sources, each revealing a different facet of her beauty and its eventual fading, including one haunting image of her gaunt body dancing in an old nightgown near the end of her life. Handbag uses these projections to sprinkle in memorable cameo appearances: Jennifer Engstrom of A Red Orchid Theatre and Coco Sho Nell materialize as yet more versions of Joan, adding to the show’s gleeful multiplicity. 

(left to right) Gretchen Greear and ensemble members Lori Lee and TJ O’Brien. Photos by Rick Aguilar Studios.

Playwright and Artistic Director David Cerda once again proves why Handbag’s voice is so distinct, shaping the material with his trademark blend of camp, bite, and affectionate parody. In perfect sync with that tone, director Cheryl Snodgrass keeps the energy sharp and well-paced, guiding the ensemble through the show’s chaos with a steady hand and a clear understanding of how Handbag humor lands best.

I noticed early on that what makes David’s writing - and the plays he produces - so special is the deeply compassionate view of life he brings from the woman’s side of things. Cerda doesn’t just tease the audience with camp, easy and tawdry jokes, he educates, encourages and supports his audience with easy and tawdry jokes. 

Even Hell needs a good design team, and this one delivers the right mix of style, practicality, and playful flair. Marcus Klein’s scenic design uses a simple, brilliant, sparkling catwalk feel that suits the production well, giving the cast plenty of room to play without clutter. Costumes by Ben Argenta Kress are perfectly designed to reflect the period with style and humor, Syd Genco’s makeup design adds dramatic, expressive detail, and Keith Ryan’s wig work rounds out the look with steady, character-focused polish.

If you’re already a fan of David Cerda as Joan Crawford and of Hell in a Handbag Productions, you should still do yourself a favor and watch Mommie Dearest before seeing the show. You’ll laugh hysterically, and during the play you’ll fully appreciate the immaculate detail the production and cast bring to the black‑and‑white film projections, the hair and wigs, the makeup, costumes, and jewelry - all crafted to showcase the utmost in humor, radiance, and accuracy.  

For two decades, Buzz Center Stage has lovingly followed Handbag’s work, and in their 25th anniversary celebratory season, Joan Crawford Goes to Hell does what the company does best: delivers affectionate and hilarious parody with a genius wink of glamour. It’s a light, funny summer offering with a faithfully committed ensemble and a clear love for the material.

Joan Crawford Goes to Hell runs August 21st through September 27th at The Clutch, 4335 N. Western Ave. Tickets available at handbagproductions.org.

Highly recommended.