A South African priest, an expecting mother, and a Transperth bus-driver, all walk into a jury room… and then there’s Mentos? Dial M for Mushrooms tells the story of the jurors trying to decide the fate of one Erin Patterson, if the jurors were various shades of insane, scheming, and high on individually wrapped mints.
The trial of Erin Patterson was one of the most talked about news stories of 2025, with round the clock coverage of the goings-on inside the court room, podcasters and newsreaders alike speculating constantly about possible motives, her life and relationships, and what the final verdict would be. It was a serious case, with serious consequences. Dial M for Mushrooms, on the other hand, avoids seriousness like a cat avoiding a bath.
Diving face-first into the mire of mushroom-related reporting, George Glass’s parody musical gives us a hilarious look into the final days of jury deliberation, providing tongue-in-cheek commentary of true crime media, ethics, and in some ways holding a mirror up to the viewer and going “this U?”.
The first characters we meet, a couple of truly unethical journalists, lead us into the musical by coming up with the title of the show for a news headline. This is followed closely by some rather unexpected and fungal burlesque before we head into the musical proper, preceded by an informative industry sponsorship. We meet our cast, the three jurors deciding Patterson’s fate, arguing over the number of Mentos each has in their respective piles.
Andrew, our Transperth bus-driver and undecided holdout, is convinced that the only way to decide on a motive is to get into the headspace of the accused, and perhaps doesn’t want to have to go to work on Monday. He is accompanied by Cindy, an expecting mother who is doing everything in her power to make sure her baby is truly exceptional, and Gavin, a South African priest who can’t possibly be a misogynist, because he doesn’t hate women, he’s just scared of them.
These three contrasting characters battle their way through trying to figure out a motive, and battle with each other to advance their own goals and schemes. Each eventually gains an unlikely sidekick; a talking talking stick, a sentient bucket of blood, and an unborn child with a Yorkshire accent, each one honing the motives of the jury themselves.
This loose plot is held tightly together with the George Glass’s eclectic mix of musical numbers. The music is of course the star of the show here, and doesn’t fail to disappoint. Shitting in White is fantastically absurd, Women Can be Killers Too cuts deep into both crime discourse and Gavin’s psyche. The climax is a fever dream of absurdist delight with the ongoing Mentos subplot finally reaching its apogee, and the star musical number of the show.
On a technical level, the show is well put together, and it is clear that the band have performed together for a while. Each member gets their own moment in the spotlight, and the transition into song was never intrusive. There were a few opening night issues with the mix, but I trust that they would get sorted with repeat performances. The group are better musicians than they are actors, but not to a degree that it negatively impacts the overall show.
For those looking for a serious and accurate retelling of the Mushroom Case that Gripped the Nation, this show is not it. If you are instead looking for a great hour of comedy, loosely based on events which may have occurred, in a show that fits beautifully into the Adelaide Fringe cannon, I certainly wouldn’t pass this one by. Lively musical talent combines with a Python-esque sense of humour to bring this show into hazy focus, with George Glass’s sharp wit striking the killing blow.
Sharp, catchy, and witty, Dial M for Mushrooms deserves a good listen.
Recommended Drink: A rum and coke, to do a science experiment with if you happen to catch any flying mentos.
You can catch Dial M for Mushrooms at the Main Stage at Arthur Arthouse until Sunday 22nd of March at 7:30pm. Tickets are available through the Adelaide Fringe Website.













