“I Swear” Is Foul-Mouthed but Wholesome

I Swear (Kirk Jones, 2025) 3½ out of 5 stars

Before we begin, let’s get the obvious out of the way. Written and directed by Kirk Jones (My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2), I Swear tells the true story of John Davidson, a Scottish man who developed Tourette’s syndrome as a teenager. This is the same John Davidson who shouted the N-word at Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo while they were presenting at the 2026 BAFTAs. In the moment, the show focused on protecting Davidson’s feelings and not considering the impact this word would have on Jordan and Lindo. It was an embarrassing incident for everyone involved and the BAFTAs were eventually found at fault. Watching I Swear with this unintended context does make some scenes feel different, but it doesn’t ruin the film overall.

The story begins in 1980s Edinburgh, when a thirteen-year-old John (Scott Ellis Watson) began displaying tics: he would spit, have muscle spasms, and scream obscenities at people. At first, his family and school were convinced it was an act, but Davidson insisted he couldn’t control it. His condition quickly put a strain on his home life, with his mother almost singlehandedly supporting him. By 1996, Davidson (now played by Robert Aramayo, Palestine ’36) was medicated but struggling to hold down a job. Enter Dottie (Maxine Peake, Words of War), the mother of Davidson’s childhood friend Murray (Francesco Piacentini-Smith/Jamie McAllistar). As a long-time mental-health nurse, Dottie saw that Davidson needed habit and structure to keep his tics in check. Thus began a decades-long journey of education, vulnerability, and eventual acceptance.

Considering how Tourette’s is still such a hot-button topic, I Swear stays grounded in reality thanks to Aramayo and Watson’s brilliant performances. It’s a role that could have easily slid into Tropic Thunder territory, but both actors feel completely at ease here. Watson only plays young Davidson for the first half hour but watching him slowly slide into the tics sets the stage for everything after. Once Aramayo takes over, he brings such a lived-in quality to the character, as if the condition frustrates him as much as everyone else. There were so many moments when he was walking down the street or leaving a grocery store that made me tense up. I would genuinely be afraid of what Davidson might say or do at the wrong time, which is exactly what the filmmakers intended.

Once again, watching this film post-BAFTAs adds genuine irony to so much of Davidson’s behavior. At one point, Davidson is having tics in a courtroom, and his Black attorney has to reassure the judge that Davidson has used all kinds of racist and homophobic slurs to his face, but none of it is his fault. If anything, this just makes the BAFTAs look worse for sitting him next to a microphone. Overall, I Swear is a kind, intimate drama with so much profanity that you honestly stop noticing after a while. James Blann’s cinematography wonderfully captures both the wide vistas of Scotland and the smallest expressions on Aramayo’s face. I would argue that the film’s only misstep is that is spends little time on Davidson’s current job: Tourette’s advocacy.

Jones spends ninety percent of the film showing Davidson’s trials and tribulations with the disorder, only to spend two montages in the last twenty minutes actually showing what he does with that wisdom. Aramayo does get one great scene where he bonds with a young woman with Tourette’s, but I wish there were more like it. The conclusion feels a little rushed as a result. However, I am glad that I Swear exists. It’s an excellent introduction to Tourette’s as a disorder and easily generates empathy for those who suffer from it. I just wish that the BAFTA’s incompetence hadn’t overshadowed what should have been a moment of pride.

George W. Campbell

George W. Campbell is a director/screenwriter/editor from Bowie, Maryland, whose films focus on themes of family and personal relationships. As a Nicaraguan-American filmmaker, he aims to highlight specific parts of his culture and personal experiences (songs, dances, foods, and language).