Before the 2026 British Film and Television Awards (BAFTAs), I’m not sure if most people in the U.S. (beyond those whose job it is to keep track of these sorts of things) had heard of the movie “I Swear,” based on the life of activist John Davidson – a Scottish man with severe Tourette syndrome. Then, Robert Aramayo won the best actor award for his turn as John, beating out frontrunners like Timothée Chalamet and the eventual Oscar-winner Michael B. Jordan.
But before that, something much more terrible happened. While Jordan and his “Sinners” costar Delroy Lindo were presenting the first award of the night, Davidson (who was seated near a microphone), had an uncontrollable tic-related outburst and shouted a racial slur. Top to bottom, the BAFTAs and the BBC handled the situation abominably (the BBC aired the moment in its broadcast, despite a lengthy delay that gave them time to edit other things out), with very little regard for Jordan and Lindo and their safety, or for Davidson and his still misunderstood condition. As “Sinners” actress Jayme Lawson put it: “That man’s disability got exploited that night, and it led to multiple offenses.”
So then, it seems like “I Swear” – which opens in Atlanta this weekend – is a movie that should exist, if for no other reason than to give people a rundown of what Tourette syndrome actually is and how it manifests. But, while the film is a bit standard as far as biopics go, filmmaker Kirk Jones handles the topic with a warm and inviting hand, and Aramayo’s performance is as wonderfully nuanced as the subject matter requires.
In “I Swear,” John’s condition manifests when he is a teenager – perhaps the worst time in anyone’s life to stick out more than you have to. Watching John (played by Scott Ellis Watson as a young man) struggle with a condition he doesn’t understand is one of the more harrowing sections of the film. His parents, working-class Scots, have no clue what’s going on, and their helplessness leads them to act out, leaving John isolated in a world of confusion.
The movie strikes a deft balance of tone in how it handles John’s condition. Later on in the film, John talks to a group of parents of kids with Tourettes about how tics can often come across as funny, and it’s okay to laugh when they do – what’s important is that you’re not laughing at the person, but rather with them. There is a world where a movie like “I Swear” is not made with as much sensitivity as this one, where the director and actors do not take the amount of care required to do right by an entire community of people. But, while “I Swear” is often funny, and a tic is even sometimes what’s making you laugh, it never feels belittling or mocking.
That balance of tone often has to do less with John himself and more with how other people in the film react to him. John’s mother, Heather (Shirley Henderson), reacts to his tics with heavy sighs, or quiet outbursts of words like, “Jeez!” Compare that to Dottie Achenbach (Maxine Peake), John’s friend’s mother who he ends up living with when it becomes too hard to take his own mother’s sighing. When he apologizes to Dottie for involuntarily saying something rude, she tells him not to. When he accidentally smacks her across the face, she lets out a startled laugh. She doesn’t make excuses for him, but rather treats him with the understanding that his condition is not something to be ignored or ashamed of. His humanity comes first.
The central idea about Tourettes that the movie puts forth is that our reactions to involuntary outbursts say more about us and our understanding of the condition than they do the person with the condition. Even before John’s tics manifested, Heather reacted to him with a similar attitude. In an early scene, he’s ranting to her about soccer while he’s trying on clothes. She doesn’t respond to his musings, but quietly, tiredly interjects with phrases like, “Tuck your shirt in,” and “Fix your tie.” She is tired and worn out, and their family is not one given the resources necessary to handle such a severe diagnosis.
However much Dottie, who warms to John like he’s her own son, tells him not to apologize, the film walks a fine line between understanding that it’s not John’s fault that he has Tourette syndrome, and also understanding most people’s natural reactions (for the most part – some are unspeakably, unforgivably violent). When his tics are first manifesting, he goes on a date with a girl to see “Tootsie” and lets out an involuntary, “Suck my d*ck” in the darkness of the theater. It’s mortifying – not just for John, but also for the scared teenage girl who has no way to know what’s going on.
In the film’s worldview, education is the solution, and towards its end, “I Swear” becomes a bit less of a film and more of a tool. But even though “I Swear” feels understandably (and maybe necessarily) a bit didactic, Aramayo’s performance is what stays with you long after the credits roll. He is natural and nuanced in a part that so easily could have gone sideways, forming the character of John into a three-dimensional person with strengths and flaws rather than simplifying him as a mouthpiece for a misunderstood condition. Understanding someone’s humanity is always the first step to bridging the gap, to helping people look past their fear and discomfort. Aramayo’s performance is that bridge.
