I Swear: Movie Review

Cast: Robert Aramayo, Shirley Henderson, Maxine Peake, Peter Mullan, Scott Ellis Watson

Director: Kirk Jones

There's plenty in I Swear which feels formulaic.

Beginning with a present-day event (meeting the Queen, before swearing at her) and then zipping back to his earlier years, this feel-good film about Tourette Syndrome sufferer John Davidson takes on a more poignant and tragic edge, given his recent appearance at the 2026 BAFTA Awards.

Yet, this at-times heartbreaking underdog biopic is extremely uplifting, thanks to a compassionate direction and an extraordinary performance from both its leads - Watson as the young Davidson and Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power's award-winning Aramayo as the older version.

In 1980s Galashiels in Scotland, John is a happy boy. On the cusp of starting secondary school, he's the apple of his dad's eye, thanks to his goal-keeping prowess. But a few days into a new life, it all begins to unravel when involuntary tics emerge and his life devolves into mockery and ostracism at the hands of others - including a family break-up and a cold, clinical mother (Henderson) who's incapable of any empathy.

Things change for Davidson when he meets Dottie (Maxine Peake), a mother dying of cancer, who gives him the sympathetic support he's been denied by society.

What happens next is very easily telegraphed in the world of movie-making - a series of obstacles to be overcome, before inevitable success. (Though any success will feel bittersweet after Davidson's use of the N-word at the BAFTAs).

And while you'd expect a film about this subject to use the Tourette's as a punchline of absurdity thanks to its appearance at the most inopportune moments, every outburst is utterly demoralising and hard to behold.

If Watson is deeply moving as the younger version, Aramayo absolutely knocks it out of the park as the older Davidson. From hints of sadness and frustration behind his eyes to a physical performance which is difficult to watch, he is astounding, while never losing any of the likeable everyman who has a wicked sense of humour.

But rather than mocking Davidson, the film - and by default Aramayo - give him wide berth to show the reality of living a life like this, the isolation and the utter frustration at an inability to just have a normal day. This so easily could have been a film that made a mockery of its subject matter - instead, it becomes a touchpoint for discussion, a window into humanity and a relatably human story about dealing with what life's delivered you.

A truly moving and joyful experience that could have easily lost some of the film's back third, I Swear is the kind of life-affirming thing British cinema does so well so often. It throws open a window into a world we barely know, floods it with pathos and delivers something that's truly unforgettable.