Cast: Robert Aramayo, Maxine Peake, Shirley Henderson, Peter Mullan
Genre: Biography, Drama, History
Director: Kirk Jones
In Irish Cinemas: 10th October 2025
A portrait of John Davidson, the Scottish activist who devoted his life to raising awareness of Tourette Syndrome, becomes, in I Swear, a story that’s alternately funny, painful, and deeply human. It’s the kind of grounded, heartfelt, accurate tale that British cinema used to deliver with clockwork regularity.
Inspired by Davidson’s real experiences (he also serves as an executive producer), I Swear chronicles a young man’s coming of age in 1980s Scotland, a time when Tourette’s Syndrome was little understood and even less discussed. The film follows his journey through isolation, brutal misunderstanding, and moments of darkly comic absurdity from disastrous dates to instances of shocking violence.
Robert Aramayo, known from The Rings of Power, plays Davidson in adulthood, with the title itself operating on two levels: a nod to both the uncontrollable expletives that accompany his tics and to the solemn courtroom vow he struggles to deliver. Writer-director Kirk Jones (Waking Ned Devine) strikes a delicate balance between humour and empathy, crafting a film that laughs with, rather than at, its subject, while acknowledging the chaos Tourette’s syndrome unleashes in Davidson’s life.
The film opens in 2019 Edinburgh, where Davidson accepts an honour from the Queen. When he blurts “Fuck the Queen!” it’s not rebellion but reflex, the first of countless involuntary outbursts that, over two hours, are by turns mortifying, hilarious, and heartbreaking.

From there, the narrative rewinds to 1983. Young John, played with moving authenticity by newcomer Scott Ellis Watson, is a preteen still searching for the words to describe what’s happening to him. The adults in his world, uncertain and fearful, respond with everything from awkwardness to outright cruelty. Jones refuses to sugarcoat these early scenes: ignorance, he makes clear, may explain such behaviour, but never justifies it.
As the adult Davidson, Aramayo delivers a layered, magnetic performance. John is a man caught between craving normalcy and knowing it will forever elude him. This push-and-pull propels the film’s most gripping moments, whether he’s unintentionally sabotaging a job interview (“I spunked in your tea!”) or provoking danger in a Glasgow nightclub. The tension isn’t just about what might happen to him, but what might happen because of him, his involuntary movements often placing those nearby in harm’s way. Aramayo captures the paradox of a man who is simultaneously fragile and, through no fault of his own, threatening.

The supporting cast brings quiet strength and depth of character. Shirley Henderson plays John’s volatile mother, embodying the tragic belief that her son’s condition is something done to her. Maxine Peake and Peter Mullan provide warmth and grounding as surrogate parental figures, while Steven Cree appears briefly as John’s distant father. Henderson, in particular, gives a masterclass in controlled chaos, her performance vibrating with fury, shame, and misplaced love.
In tone and spirit, I Swear harkens back to the era of The Full Monty, Billy Elliot, and Calendar Girls: British crowd-pleasers that mixed social realism with humour and heart. Yet it also feels very much of today, aware of modern conversations around representation. Aramayo himself does not have Tourette’s Syndrome, but his portrayal is so committed and humane that few could argue it rings false. His performance alone makes a strong case that I Swear is as authentic as it is affecting.
Overall: 9/10


















