Hollywood’s developed some negative trends in the past 30 years, but the industry has avoided the type of “advocacy titles” solely focused on a specific issue, condition, or subsection of the population without nuance. At a first glance, I Swear’s approach to the subject material of Tourette syndrome would seem regressive; while it’s about the life of a man with Tourette’s who became an advocate, the film’s mostly focused on his coming-to-grips with his condition. Despite sentimentality, I Swear is legitimately informative and compelling on its own due to the strong performance by its breakout star, Robert Aramayo.
The subject of I Swear is John Davidson, a Scottish man who developed early tics associated with Tourette's when he was a teenager. The lack of education about the motor disorder and its consequences meant the 12-year-old Davidson (played in flashbacks by Scott Ellis Watson) was accused of intentional misbehavior, which led to physical abuse from his school instructors and harassment from members of the secluded community of Galashiels in the Scottish Borders. After the unexplained departure of his father and lack of empathy from his mother (Shirley Henderson), Davidson’s taken in by his best friend Murray (Francesco Piacentini-Smith) and his mother Dottie (Maxine Peake), who attempt to give him the semblance of a normal life. Even when given a job by the elderly caretaker Tommy Trotter (Peter Mullan), Davidson’s often targeted by skeptical law enforcement officers and physically assaulted by offended parties.
A more manipulative film would’ve drawn a straight line between Davidson’s circumstances and his attempt to overcome them, but I Swear is sobering in its assessment of the effect Tourette’s had on his life. As a child of a working-class family, Davidson was denied opportunities for class mobility because the pompous leadership of Galashiels Academy saw his tics as purely malicious. I Swear is optimistic about the notion that people would sympathize with Davidson if they knew more about Tourette’s, but it’s not easy for him to stop someone in the street and explain why he might have uttered an obscenity at them. That Davidson became a Tourette’s advocate is the only option he had to live a distinguished life, given that those with the condition are rarely accepted into universities or attain high-paying jobs. The most striking image in I Swear is one of Davidson sobbing in the lobby of a Church while the funeral procession of a loved one is held; he’s chosen to not enter the ceremony itself in fear that an outburst could disrupt a moment of mourning.
Aramayo’s an actor who’s mostly dabbled in fantasy; he has the rare distinction of being in both Game of Thrones and The Lord of the Rings spinoff series. His performance in I Swear is effective because of his anonymity; an actor with more credits to their name would’ve found it impossible to disappear within the role. The few clips that I Swear has of the real Davidson aren’t used to boast of how Aramayo nailed the specifics of Davidson’s demeanor, but to point out how none of his tics have been mischaracterized. It’s a responsibility that I Swear unfortunately had because of how little onscreen representation there has been for those with Tourette’s; for most audiences, their only exposure to the condition may have been the classic South Park episode “Le Petit Tourette,” in which Cartman’s false diagnosis with coprolalia gave him the opportunity to utter slurs and profanity in public venues.
I Swear doesn’t ask for sweeping reformations, and even has a sense of humor about how awkward the condition’s effects can be. The only instances in which the film would appear to be addressing the audience are when Davidson’s tics are directly explained to either himself or a captive audience; Dottie’s determined that Davidson not apologize for outbursts that he has no control over, and his lawyer (Thierry Mabonga) explains to the court that his client doesn’t mean any of the offensive words that he says. That Davidson’s a thoughtful, curious young man with an interest in dance and recreation makes him an engaging protagonist for a film like I Swear, but the point is that those with Tourette’s shouldn’t be held to any different standards.
What should’ve been a breakout moment for I Swear was compromised by insensitivity towards Davidson, which confirmed that the over-the-top bigotry depicted in the film didn’t go far enough. It was during the BAFTA award ceremony that Davidson’s tics resulted in his outburst of racial epithets during the broadcast, which led him to leave the ceremony. That the film picked up two prizes (including Aramayo for Best Actor in an upset) was a secondary headline to the victimization of the cast of Sinners who were perceived by tabloid outlets as targeted by a hateful act. It was within one night that the industry made a declarative statement about the limits of the progressive movement; those with Tourette’s can be celebrated as a self-congratulatory kindness on behalf of a voting body, but they’d be dejected as soon as their reality caused discomfort to privileged actors paid millions to accept trophies.
The subsequent mocking from Saturday Night Live and threatening statements at the NAACP awards that targeted Davidson are a stain that’ll be tied to I Swear for the near future, or at least until those who live in ignorance of Tourette’s put off watching the film. That the faith I Swear showed in human empathy was so swiftly proven to be non-existent might be a net-loss for society at large, but it doesn’t prevent the film from being a satisfying standalone achievement.