Perhaps the saddest thing about “I Swear,” the moving if also occasionally cloying film about Tourette’s activist John Davidson, is that a movie aimed at forging understanding ended up unwittingly causing division and horror — at a ceremony where it was being celebrated.
At the same British Academy Film Awards ceremony in February where Robert Aramayo, the absolutely terrific actor who plays Davidson, was a surprise best actor winner, Davidson’s involuntary racial slur hurled at presenters Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo was more shocking than any moment in the film. (Also shocking: The slur was initially kept in the broadcast, with the BBC and BAFTA later apologizing.)
But the reaction was educational, proving one of the key tenets of Kirk Jones’ film, only now releasing in the U.S. Some called Davidson a racist online, not understanding how Tourette’s works — some with the syndrome experience coprolalia, a vocal tic that causes people to say vile things they don’t mean. As Davidson himself says in the movie: “The problem isn’t Tourette’s — the problem is that people don’t know enough about Tourette’s.”
“I Swear” begins Davidson’s story with a similar, but much less harmful, incident. The Scottish activist, after years of struggle, is being honored in 2019 by Queen Elizabeth II for his work. He expresses fear that he’ll say something he regrets, and indeed, in the audience before he gets to the monarch, he shouts out: “F— the Queen!”
We then go back to 1983 in Scotland, where young Davidson (Scott Ellis Watson, also superb), as a schoolboy, is beginning to suffer the disturbing symptoms of Tourette’s, a nervous system disorder known for repetitive movements and tics, both motor and vocal. The boy, a promising goalkeeper in football, is soon the subject of ridicule from students and adults alike.
That includes at home, where his mother (an affecting Shirley Henderson, not given enough to do) cannot cope with the changes and his father, even weaker, abandons the family. Nobody understands what’s happening.
We move ahead 13 years, with Davidson (Aramayo now), in his 20s, trying to make his way in the world. He’s lucky to meet his friend’s mother, Dottie Achenbach (Maxine Peake), a mental health nurse who becomes his guardian angel and surrogate parent. When he apologizes for calling her a vile name, of course involuntarily, she admonishes him — for his apology.
In a world where onlookers scurry away from him — or far worse — another guardian angel appears in the form of Tommy (Peter Mullan) a community center worker who hires Davidson as a handyman. This despite a rocky job interview in which Davidson yells: “I’m a pedophile!” Tommy endures Davidson’s bad tea, verbal tics, even sudden punches to the nether regions.
Life, though, is unrelenting — at one point Davidson is badly beaten by friends of a woman he called “Slut!” in the streets. It is Tommy who finally suggests that Davidson must help educate the world. “I don’t think Tourette’s is the problem,” Tommy says.
And so, Davidson begins his activist work, bringing together Tourette’s families for weekends of mutual understanding, an uplifting new chapter that will result in documentaries and a bestselling memoir. “I Swear” — at a perhaps overlong run time of two hours — is full of warmth and even humor, with Davidson occasionally laughing at himself and inviting us to join in.
Except.
“I Swear” cannot pretend — and boy, we do sense it wants to — that Davidson’s life is a linear struggle toward the world’s understanding of Tourette’s. Not after the film’s deeply depressing BAFTA epilogue.
In any case, we finally see the real Davidson, in footage, meeting the real queen. And once he gets face to face with her, to our great relief, the moment goes smoothly.
“I Swear,” a Sony Pictures Classics release, has been rated R by the Motion Picture Association “for language throughout and some violence.” Running time: 120 minutes. Three stars out of four.
