The story of John Davidson MBE is brought to the screen in affecting biopic I Swear – here’s our review of the film. The story of John Davidson MBE, a man with Tourette’s Syndrome, has already been told more than once across acclaimed documentaries. It’s a hell of a tale too, about a man whose ... I Swear review | Tense, human, shocking, funny – but any good?
The story of John Davidson MBE is brought to the screen in affecting biopic I Swear – here’s our review of the film.
The story of John Davidson MBE, a man with Tourette’s Syndrome, has already been told more than once across acclaimed documentaries. It’s a hell of a tale too, about a man whose life has been accompanied by a syndrome barely known let alone understood through his youth, and only brought to the fore in more recent times by people like, well, him.
The fact that it’s an incredible story, on paper, could have been the initial problem. Going scant on details for those unfamiliar with it, John’s family life is slightly fractured, and key to him is a friendship with a woman called Dottie Achenbach, who herself we find struggling with illness.
It brought to mind the sort-of old cliché that there’s sometimes nothing less believable on film than a true story, and considering how writer/director Kirk Jones (Waking Ned, Nanny McPhee) approached the telling of John’s life, it strikes me there were traps all around him.
It’s a considerable achievement then, I’d suggest, that he finds a tone and approach that makes often-unbelievable-sounding moments, believable.
The film, then.
We meet John, played by the terrific Robert Aramayo, not far from the present day, in a moment that sets the tone for what lies ahead. John’s tics, we learn, aren’t under his control, resulting in him sometimes blurting out the most inappropriate, shocking statement at precisely the worst moment. Such as, say, when you’re collecting an MBE from the Queen. The film doesn’t blink, the audience might.
But it’s sensible to put this first, establishing straight off an uneasy tone that weaves through I Swear. On the one hand, there are some outbursts that are just flat-out funny. On the other, even the most potentially benign of moments suddenly has a tension to them. There’s a bit fairly deep in the film where Jones signposts something that’s going to happen very clearly, but a lot of the time, he just doesn’t. It means there’s a real sense of unexpected, often of shock. I found myself watching certain moments as if I was watching an ultra-tense thriller.
Jones doesn’t showboat, either. He lets moments play out, he settles his camera on the streets of Scotland and away from movie glamour, and his sublime casting ensures the material is handled and elevated with diligence and respect.
His script itself covers a lot of years of John’s life, and while there are moments when as a viewer I wondered if he might go off in a slightly different direction, the strokes he chooses to paint are understandable.
Aramayo, who I understand worked closely with Davidson (who’s credited as an executive producer on the film), is superb as the older John, carrying the lead role for most of the film (Scott Ellis Watson is strong too as the younger version). The story, after its impactful opening, soon zips back to his youth and builds from there, from cane-happy headteachers through to an assortment of authority figures who, well, don’t come out things well. The added weight of this being a true story, one closely involving its subject, is felt.
As things progress too, we meet Shirley Henderson as his mother, Heather, Maxine Peake as a woman called Dottie (coming to her shortly) and Peter Mullan in full ‘and Peter Mullan’ mode, adding texture to a relatively small role. There’s a terrific sequence too, where John meets a young woman who also has Tourette’s, that still has me chuckling now. Lots of moments here stick in the mind.
Countering that, the framework here does feel like that of an ‘awards’ film and a cinematic biopic, both of which are slightly unfair on I Swear. But also these points are going to come up, as I fully expect it to be in the BAFTA conversation. I’d also suggest too that while the story Kirk Jones tells has an endpoint, the last scenes are less effective than the first.
And yet, I think there’s something a bit beyond that awards chat here, and the conventional structure of a biopic. Two quiet things that I Swear achieves, and achieves particularly well.
Firstly, there’s a sequence in the film where Maxine Peake, one of Britain’s finest actors, delivers with a delicate, upbeat tone, a speech on apologising.
You take from films what you bring to them, but this really, really hit me. I looked around the cinema just after she delivered her words on screen, and it didn’t shift too many others that I could see. But I struggled to hold back the tears a little bit there. I think that I Swear is the kind of film that could change someone’s life, and this moment is the reason why, at least for me. The constant cloud of apology that exists around difference, casually smashed apart by one of Britain’s best actors. I’ve seen the film twice, and both times, this bit absolutely got me.
That’s not all. What Kirk Jones’ screenplay also finds space for is exploring the fear of loneliness. Not just from John himself, but the people around him. The fear that someone you love and care about is going to be lonely, isn’t going to fit in, a helplessness. To be clear, I Swear is John’s story, well told, but there’s nuance and care beneath relatively conventional clothing that touches those around him in the film.
I’ve I Swear in my head for longer than usual before writing down my thoughts, and it’s given me distance to see the bits of it worked better than others. I think people will have notes. Yet my feeling towards it remains very positive. Shot in Scotland, and earthed by the footage that plays over its end credits, it’s a deliberately broad telling of an often incredibly raw story, and that gives it the best chance of being seen.
There are many ways that Kirk Jones could have approached this, I’ve reflected, and at least one other character who deserves a film of their own. But by going slightly broad, and being hungry for an audience, I Swear is an extraordinarily life, packed into a very accessible, impactful film. It deserves success and eyeballs, and I hope it finds both.
I Swear is out in UK cinemas on the 10th October 2025.
