Spoilers! Take elements from 1920s and ‘30s tearjerkers like The Sin of Madelon Claudet and Madame X and sprinkle in facets of All About Eve, Marlene Dietrich, Pollyanna, Designing Women, and The Carol Burnett Show, and you’ve got The Confession of Lily Dare, the latest romp written by and starring longtime high camp queen Charles Busch and directed by Carl Andress.

Lily Dare (Busch) is a convent school grad who speaks four languages and happens to have a fierce opera voice. But her mama died in an avalanche in Tibet, so Lily tracks down her Aunt Rosalie, a Frisco brothel madam who’s hard-bitten and harried, but willing to give her a quick hug between barking wisecracks. Before you know it, Lily is wowing them as a cabaret star and having a baby, Louise, whom she sadly has to give up in one of the most resonant plot developments from the dustbins of old Hollywood.

In Act Two, Louise is grown up and singing, inspired by the good vibes mama is devotedly channeling her way as a decent person gone awry. Louise also happens to be a principessa who speaks in an exaggerated accent full of giddy grandeur and pretension, though she’s genuinely desperate to track down her real mother for completion’s sake. The feeling is mutual. By now, Lily is a hard-boiled murderer and madam (a long story), but she’s hungry for a daughter’s kiss, and if you’ve seen any of those old films made from melodramas, you know what probably happens next.

The tone is tongue in cheek, the costumes by Rachel Townsend and Jessica Jahn are delicious, and the cast is game, with Nancy Anderson fun as Lily’s brothel pal who narrates from Lily’s grave; Howard McGillin smarmily charming as the shady rich guy that Lily gets involved with; and the inventive Jennifer Van Dyck scoring big laughs in four roles (including Aunt Rosalie and Louise). And Bush centers it all with his clipped pronunciations, barroom chanteuse-ing, and costume changes.

My confession? This is a well-assembled diversion from panic.