‘I Swear’ review: A brave new voice

Kirk Jones’ direction and Robert Aramayo’s performance make I Swear a groundbreaking portrayal of a condition heavily stigmatized.

I Swear centers on the true story of John Davidson (Robert Aramayo). Since childhood, he’s struggled with outbursts he can’t control. These episodes have meant school expulsions, the loss of promising athletic opportunities, and abandonment by his father (Steven Cree). John is eventually able to receive some clarity through a diagnosis of Tourette syndrome, a condition marked by uncontrollable verbal and motor tics.

But a diagnosis doesn’t automatically make people more accepting of John’s experience, especially regarding his involuntary uttering of obscenities. This is how he ends up 25, unemployed, and living with a mother (Shirley Henderson) who resents him.

John does manage some good luck when he runs into an old school friend, Murray (Francesco Piacentini-Smith), who asks him to dinner with Murray’s family. Murray’s mother, Dottie (Maxine Peake), a former mental health nurse, meets John and immediately offers him something he’s never had before: complete acceptance. John eventually moves in with the family and, with their support, makes major strides towards employment, independence, and, most significantly, elevating public awareness of Tourette Syndrome.

A revolutionary portrayal.

The portrayal of Tourette’s in I Swear is not perfect. Notably, the film makes no effort to differentiate between general Tourette syndrome and coprolalia (involuntary obscenities) despite coprolalia not being limited to Tourette syndrome and only impacting about 10% of Tourette’s patients. But this is a relatively minor quibble for what is almost certainly the most thoughtful portrayal of the condition ever in a narrative film. Tourette’s has long been one of the most stigmatized conditions in the media. At best, it’s a lazy punchline. But just as often, it’s used to signify addiction, laziness, or some other perceived moral failing. Writer/director Kirk Jones rejects that idea outright, opting for radical empathy in his portrayal of Davidson and his condition.

I do not have Tourette syndrome, but I do have a similar motor disorder. My experience is not John Davidson’s. My motor tics are worse, requiring the use of a cane. And my coprolalia is milder, allowing me to navigate social situations more easily. But I could not help but feel seen by this film. Like Davidson, I have navigated the humiliation of being unable to control tics in public. I have accidentally hit people. I have navigated parents who were angry that I swore in front of their children. And I have been assaulted by strangers. Never before have I seen my experience captured so effectively on film. I cannot deny at times becoming legitimately emotional as Jones captured the lows and the highs that I have struggled to explain even to those who know me well.

I Swear is unflinching in its portrayal of living with motor disorders. It forces viewers to sit in the discomfort and agony of not being in control of their own bodies. Aramayo’s performance is outstanding in this regard. I Swear is also unapologetic in acknowledging that the situations caused by these conditions can also sometimes be very funny. Aramayo’s performance is outstanding on that aspect as well. The actor brings heart and nuance to his portrayal of Davidson, highlighting the man’s humanity without glossing over his lowest moments.

Where I Swear does fall short is in its tendency to fall into classic awards-bait biopic tropes. The pacing struggles when the film attempts to cover multiple years of Davidson’s life in quick succession. And the film awkwardly throws in a cliché happy ending, bending over backward to squeeze in an optimistic glimpse of new treatments for tics when the reality is far less exciting. But these are relatively minor issues, especially when you consider this isn’t the only biopic with these struggles.

There’s still work to do.

The North American release of I Swear comes a full six months after the film’s original United Kingdom release, which saw a successful theatrical run and BAFTA wins for Best Actor and Best Casting. Davidson was in attendance at the award ceremony, where he experienced several vocal outbursts. The broadcast edited the majority of these out of the show, but an instance of Davidson shouting a racial slur at presenters Delroy Lindo and Michael B. Jordan was, for some boneheaded reason, left intact. The resulting discourse only showed how pernicious the misconceptions about Tourette’s actually are.

My heart breaks for Lindo and Jordan, and for production designer Hannah Beachler, who was subjected to the same slur off-camera. All of these individuals have been subject to very public anti-Black racism during their careers. They have every reason to be upset. And my heart breaks for Davidson, who has spent years attempting to raise awareness for this condition, only to find himself facing vitriol at the international level for something he didn’t have control over.

In my years of dealing with coprolalia, I have said a racial slur only once. I was very fortunate that this was in a relatively private place and in the presence of someone who knew me well enough to immediately recognize that it was involuntary. Six years later, and I still look back on that moment with dread. I still live with the fear that it could happen again. The BBC’s handling of this situation was a failure. They should have given their presenters more context. They should have edited it from the live broadcast. And they should have given more than a halfhearted apology afterward. They caused real harm to both Black viewers and to the Tourette’s community, in the process showing how desperately we need more awareness for this condition.

There’s also the question of how film ratings feed this stigma. I Swear has received an R rating in the United States, effectively cutting the film off from 20% of the population. In the United Kingdom, it has a 15 rating, meaning anyone under 15 is unable to attend a screening or buy it for home video. These ratings are solely for language. That is the limit of the film’s “adult” content. This is, in effect, punishing the film for accurately portraying a medical condition. This limits the film’s ability to raise awareness of Tourette syndrome and increase empathy for those who live with it. Evaluating appropriateness based on an arbitrary checklist of content has always been flawed. Always. But rarely is there such a potent example as this.

The bottom line.

Biopics are extremely common, and there is nothing in the premise or structure of I Swear to differentiate it from the deluge of similar films that come about every awards season. But these films are often — especially when they explore marginalized communities — sanitized to within an inch of their life in order to meet the tastes of mainstream audiences. By refusing to do so, I Swear has managed something unique and very much needed. Don’t miss it.

I Swear is now playing in select theaters. Watch the trailer here.

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Images courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics. Read more articles by Brogan Luke Bouwhuis here.