I SWEAR

THREE AND A HALF STARS John Davidson has Tourette's. Everyone thinks he's inappropriate and swears too much.

DRAMA UK English #ISWEAR Starring Robert Aramayo, Maxine Peake

Kirk Jones (WAKING NED DEVINE) is no stranger to sentiment, and I SWEAR is no exception. Based on the true story of John Davidson, a Scotsman diagnosed as a teenager with Tourette syndrome, it’s a film with heart, humour and a fair amount of grit. If it doesn’t quite stick the landing, it certainly at least earns its sincerity.

Back in the ’80s Tourettes was mostly considered bad behaviour. And for Davidson, as if just being a teenager wasn’t bad enough, he now had to contend with uncontrollable twitching and involuntary outbursts. As played by Scott Ellis Watson, he’s a kid trapped inside a body and a society that can’t (or won’t) understand him. The film’s first act is full of family tension, schoolyard cruelty and flashes of gallows humour and where the film is at its best. Jones captures the claustrophobia of small-town life and the bruising mix of empathy and shame that comes from being different.

As the story advances into adulthood, Robert Aramayo takes over as Davidson and the story broadens out. He’s supported by his best friend’s mother (a compelling Maxine Peake) who becomes a surrogate, filling the void left by Davidson’s own mother (Shirley Henderson). She takes the boy in and helps him navigate an intolerant world. 

Ironically for a man prone to very shouty outbursts of the most inappropriate kind, there's a quiet dignity in his portrayal of a man learning not just to live with his condition but to speak up for others with it. Jones, to his credit, doesn’t reduce Tourette’s to an “inspirational illness” or tidy moral. The film honours the frustration as much as the resilience. Even the Queen took notice of his efforts.

As is often the case with well-meaning crowd-pleasers, the tone wobbles as the film shifts between tough realism and comforting uplift. And while the closing act gestures toward social activism and self-acceptance, it doesn’t dig as deeply as it could. Still, the craft is solid and production design evokes 1980s Scotland with the right mix of soot and sympathy. The humour, when it surfaces, feels earned. And Jones’ empathy for his characters shines through even when the storytelling sags.

I SWEAR may not hit the heights of THE KING’S SPEECH but as a touching, occasionally powerful account of enduring difference and the messy human need to be understood, you could go a lot further to get a lot less. Here’s a well-intentioned comedy-drama that rewards patience and compassion. Prepare to laugh and be dismayed in equal measure.

Now screening at the 2025 British Film Festival

HOME