Robert Aramayo won the BAFTA Award for Best Actor for his portrayal of John Davidson in I Swear.Tempo Productions/Supplied
I Swear
Written and directed by Kirk Jones
Starring Maxine Peake, Robert Aramayo and Peter Mullan
Classification R; 120 minutes
Opens in select theatres April 24
Critic’s Pick
Despite taking all manner of precautions, the worst possible scenario unfolded at the BAFTAs earlier this year. It was a strange and complex situation of life mirroring art, which sought to reflect a complicated life.
That night, Robert Aramayo won the Best Actor award for his portrayal in I Swear of John Davidson, a Scottish activist and campaigner for Tourette syndrome. During the ceremony, Davidson had a Tourette outburst, yelling out a racist slur when actors Delroy Lindo and Michael B. Jordan were on stage to present the event’s first award. Davidson left the ceremony early of his own volition to avoid causing further distress.
The backlash over the incident was swift. Not everyone was sympathetic to the explanation that Davidson’s condition causes him to spasm, sometimes swearing involuntarily and loudly. It’s exactly the kind of societal judgement that Davidson has been advocating against since becoming the inadvertent poster boy for Tourette syndrome, or TS, when he was 16.
Davidson’s life story has been documented several times. First there was a 30-minute episode on the BBC’s Q.E.D. television series in 1989. Titled John’s Not Mad, the documentary followed a teenaged Davidson around his hometown of Galashiels, illustrating his utter loneliness and fear of being misunderstood. John’s Not Mad became a national talking point and was followed by updates in 2002 and 2009, showing Davidson better adjusted to his condition along with a broader awareness of TS.
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I Swear, the biopic by Kirk Jones, takes a similarly compassionate approach in telling Davidson’s story, from his first diagnosis when he was barely in his teens until 2019, when he was given an Member of the Order of the British Empire by Queen Elizabeth II, for his work in helping families of people living with TS and educating the public at large.
The film opens with Davidson about to receive the honour, nervous about having an outburst during the assembly. And that is precisely what happens. Stunned for a second, everyone carries on.
We then flash back to 1983. Young Davidson (Scott Ellis Watson) is an earnest and winsome lad with dreams of football glory and the gumption to ask a girl out on a date. Soon enough, though, the tics start. No one understands him, not even his mother, Heather (Shirley Henderson), who is already overwhelmed by a rocky marriage. When his father leaves, Davidson blames himself. He becomes a recluse, dropping out of school.
Flash forward to an adult Davidson running into his former school friend Murray. When invited over for dinner, Davidson at first declines. But Murray’s mother, Dottie (Maxine Peake), insists. A mental health nurse, she’s the first person to inquire about his well-being and eventually takes him in.
Dottie encourages Davidson to learn more about his condition, and helps him find a job at a community centre with an empathetic boss, Tommy (Peter Mullan). Tommy encourages Davidson to educate people about Tourette syndrome, correctly diagnosing the real problem as a lack of awareness.
Dottie, played by Maxine Peake, is an attentive mental health nurse who helps Davidson find work and community.Tempo Productions/Supplied
I Swear is one of those solid British dramas that is sympathetic but not maudlin when it comes to its main character. Aramayo captures Davidson’s physical and verbal tics, but more so the sadness and exuberance that Davidson must have felt when he finally found his people. It’s a wonder that Davidson didn’t let anger overtake him, given his circumstances. Aramayo portrays that resignation and eventual sense of purpose with humour and intelligence.
It’s a credit to Jones, previously known for films such as Waking Ned Devine and Nanny McPhee, that I Swear doesn’t sag under sentimentalism in its two-hour runtime. There’s sadness, to be sure, as well as humour that cut in Davidson’s helplessness. The overall tone, however, is matter-of-fact.
It isn’t until much later in the film, for example, when discussing TS with Tommy, that we learn about Davidson’s additional compulsive behaviour beyond his tics.
Unlike other films, where such discoveries are couched in explainers aimed at educating the audience, Davidson presents these quirks to Tommy as simply personal oddities. It’s a fact of his life that now amuses him. Beyond an understanding of the physical nature of TS outbursts, viewers walk away with a sense of how emotionally exhausting it must be to live with such a condition.
It’s not entirely fair to call I Swear a PSA for inclusion. Above all, it is the story of a man who overcame an extraordinary set of odds to build a simple but meaningful life for himself and foster understanding in others. Yet, you cannot help but hope that the film – and the events surrounding it – inspires us all to think about the messiness of life. And how making space for everyone might involve a degree of discomfort for us all. But we can all, ultimately, live with it.
Special to The Globe and Mail