Unnecessary insights into the life of a reviewer that you don’t need to read #352a: for my tenth birthday (all those decades ago) my parents bought me a drum set – second hand, naturally. I’d always wanted one. The drums were decorated with a glitzy veneer and were a cream colour except for my favourite side drum which was bright red. I had a foot cymbal and a big top cymbal. I had a snare drum and a big bass drum. I had wooden sticks and soft brushes. And I absolutely loved it. I played my own interpretation of the drum accompaniments to many of my favourite tunes – in fact my performance of Clodagh Rodgers’ Jack in the Box (don’t judge me) was second to none. And, on a more serious note, it provided a safe (if noisy) way to express all those teenage angsts and frustrations especially when my dad died. I bashed out my unhappiness on those drums for hours on end.

I tell you this because I’m sure Leah, whose story is told in Rumble Theatre’s Can’t Quite Hit It, would approve. Mind you, her parents paid for drum lessons, which was more than mine did. That’s probably why she’s so good. And no wonder she wanted to become a serious, professional drummer when she grew up. Of course, everyone suffers obstructions to their ambitions, and Leah is no different. That’s why she ended up working at KFC. When Leah’s frustrated, she turns to Tears for Fears’ Shout – and why wouldn’t you? And then there’s Rob. The ghastly Rob. Rob, with the gormless face, who beats her at the drum-off audition. But Leah always comes up trumps in the end.

Rosemarie Sheach’s performance as Leah is a complete joy from start to finish. Honest, eloquent, with a terrific sense of humour, she completely owns the character and the stage and you can’t take your eyes off her. Can’t Quite Hit It shows us, warts and all, how, when someone is wrapped up in their music it can become their armour against adversity, their solace in times of trouble, and their prime means of expression. Through reminiscences of old conversations, we get a full understanding of Leah’s homelife, what her parents are like, her desires and frustrations, as well as some superbly entertaining and skilful drumming!

She has a triumphant happy-to-be-drumming smile (and a great contrast to Rob’s can’t-quite-keep-up grimace) which you know would get Leah through all the troubles life can chuck at her. A lesson in never giving up, this is a heart-warming, life-enhancing performance, which culminates in a wonderfully assertive and powerful performance of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. Certainly one of the highlights of the festival. I even got Leah’s autograph!