‘I Swear’ Humanizes a Man Without Erasing His Impact

I Swear is a warmhearted, true-to-life film about John Davidson, who is both an advocate for and lives with Tourette’s syndrome. Writer, director Kirk Jones gently places the audience in the 14th year of a young John, played by Scott Ellis Watson, which proves to be the perfect spot because it is from here we get to watch how a young, athletic, outgoing individual has to learn abruptly — and without choice — to adapt to a world not meant for his new way of being.

With high-rating shows such as Baylen Out Loud (2025) and the 2018 A&E limited series Raising Tourette’s, it is safe to say that a 2026 audience is more receptive than the one Davidson received in 1980s Scotland. This is noting that he first stepped into the spotlight in an episode of the BBC series Q.E.D entitled John’s Not Mad. In the doc episode, we learn that his tics and head jerks are involuntary, that his cursing and language are not only seemingly connected but also that John is aware of context and meaning. 

This reality brings a whole new perspective to the 2026 British Academy Film and Television Awards incident, in which Davidson yells a racial slur at actors Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo as they present an award. Host Alan Cumming comes afterward to offer viewers a space to forgive Davison due to the involuntary nature of his disease.  However, what is overlooked is a space to acknowledge the hurt and damage that comes from those words by those who “were offended.”

When it comes to holding the contradictions that come with Tourette’s, Watson is spot on in how he characterizes a teenage boy trying to come to terms with his adolescent body amidst a new and mysterious diagnosis. Likewise, Robert Aramayo (Rings of Power) beautifully portrays the transition to adulthood, capturing what it was like for the same body to come to terms with and hold the controllable parts of the disease. 

The audience cringes as we watch young Davidson get bullied by his peers for his uncontrollable outburst, banished to eat alone in front of the fireplace by his mother, and savagely given the strap by Headmaster Donald Watkins (Ronald Donachie). We then quickly shift to an adult Davidson, who struggles to complete daily tasks such as shopping, making friends, and seeking gainful employment until he reconnects with a childhood friend, Murray (Jamie McAlister), and later meets Murray’s mother, Dottie (Maxine Peake). 

This re-connection proves to be a pivotal moment for John as we watch him move from being a too-scared-to-engage young adult who chooses to exile himself to the family living room to being seen as a fierce Tourette Syndrome advocate. Peake delivers a stellar performance as she demonstrates how something as simple as the love and compassion of a stranger can propel people into a better understanding of themselves, their diagnosis, and how they choose to walk in the world. 

Specifically, Dottie, a former mental health nurse, teaches John to be unapologetic and to accept himself as he moves through his tics. With encouragement, John is able to secure a flat, gainful employment, and connect with other individuals with Tourette’s before moving on to create a safe space for individuals living with tourettes that includes parent education. 

However, before we can get to total acceptance, the audience watches Davidson — with both admiration and concern — as he deals with the criminal justice system, gets into unintentional bar fights, and describes a world where he feels he has no genuine connection to potential partners due to his vocal and physical tics that largely focus on dehumanizing and sexualizing women. 

I Swear ends with a feel-good flourish that leaves the audience with a soft spot for Davidson, despite the inappropriateness of his tics. Jones does a great job of humanizing Davidson in a way that allows everyone in the space to take on some responsibility. For example, Davidson holds that his words and language can be both offensive and inappropriate at times, resulting in consequences.  And viewers get to hold and be responsible for their reactions to his disease, giving us a choice to engage with kindness.