We all fight our own individual battles, some being more visible than others. One of the great injustices of human existence is that the combination of our inherent lack of patience and desire to categorise people into need compartments will always be the reason many are forced to experience the isolation that comes with dealing with issues that are constantly dismissed as being of very little importance. We can see this in the beautifully moving story of John Davidson, an ordinary Scottish man who grew up in the second half of the 20th century, coming of age at a time when mental health issues were not taken as seriously as they are today. His personal battle was with Tourette’s Syndrome, a condition we still are trying to understand, having made enormous progress in recent years, with the ongoing research allowing many children and adults afflicted with a condition that causes verbal and physical outbursts to lead stable, fulfilling lives. His story has now been developed into a film in the form of I Swear, in which director Kirk Jones follows Davidson from his childhood through his early adult years, showing his various experiences as someone living with a condition that was severely misunderstood for most of his life, but which he only managed to conquer through actively engaging with the people who surrounded him, forcing them to look at him as someone who is not the nuisance that they assume him to be, but rather someone who deserves the same support and attention as anyone else enduring physical or psychological challenges. A brilliant script by Jones, who adapts Davidson’s own memoirs in conjunction with the documentary John’s Not Mad (one of the first mainstream productions to explore Tourette’s Syndrome as more than just a trivial quirk), captures every nuance and delivers a poignant and moving depiction of his journey from misunderstood youth to someone who played a vital role in the continuous research into this enigmatic condition, his bravery in living his life fully and without any regrets being the foundation for one of the year’s most heartfelt and engaging dramas, and a film that is both genuinely surprising and deeply compelling in several ways.

According to current statistics, one in every six people in the United Kingdom are currently living with some kind of neurological disorder, and up to one percent of the population have some form of Tourette’s Syndrome, indicating that it is something that is frankly more than just a psychological quirk, and instead a serious condition that demands not only active research, but also a sincere degree of respect for those who battle with it, since it is a struggle that often manifests visually and verbally, leading to many feeling unnecessarily discriminated against as a result of actions far out of their control. Davidson has become perhaps the most famous example of someone living with the condition, which makes I Swear such an important film, considering most of us may not be aware of his life and struggles, despite his story being frequently cited as a watershed moment for public awareness of the disorder. Jones is not someone who we usually associate with these socially-conscious biographical dramas, but he is a reliable filmmaker, and someone who immediately recognises not only the potential to craft something meaningful, but to do so in a way that is engaging and compelling, finding specific thematic cues from which he can construct a film that acts as both a biographical account of Davidson’s life, and an in-depth exploration into Tourette’s Syndrome as a serious condition. This is not a didactic and overly serious scientific account in which absolutely every detail is outlined – there are plenty of documentaries and other texts that cover them with incredible precision – but rather an examination of the protagonist’s journey through life, following his efforts to overcome what is evidently an enormously intimidating condition, which he is only able to do through the kindness of others. Themes of friendship, family and individuality are all intricately woven into the fabric of the film, which is as much a celebration of Davidson’s life as it is a complex exploration of his personal struggles, particularly those which led to him enduring some deeply unsettling challenges that he could have easily avoided had he been given the help he needed far earlier in life, rather than being left mainly to his own devices for the most part.

We often find that films about characters enduring enormous challenges tend to be a good opportunity for actors to showcase their skills, and a role that Davidson in I Swear was tailor-made for a young actor to prove their mettle. However, Jones needed to find someone who could not only run the gamut of emotions but do so in a way that was sensitive and sincere, rather than reducing the character to a bundle of quirks. This comes in the form of Robert Aramayo, who is by no means a newcomer (he’s done a decent amount of work in both film and television, and is certainly not inexperienced), but who nonetheless seems to be on the precipice of a breakthrough as a result of this film, which is built entirely around his performance. We cannot overstate the challenges that come with playing such a character and making him seem not only authentic but also capturing every intricate detail of his personality. It’s an enormous achievement to play someone with Tourette’s Syndrome, where we can both laugh and feel his pain, which is a result of an actor who approaches the part with nothing but the most heartfelt sincerity and desire to tell this story in as genuine a manner as possible. Aramayo’s performance is truly extraordinary, so much so that we forget that we’re watching an actor’s interpretation, rather than the subject himself. He’s joined by a strong supporting cast – Maxine Peake is the embodiment of warmth as Dottie, who takes Davidson under her wing and becomes his unofficial caretaker, the person who helps guide him through life, as well as Peter Mullan, who is surprisingly warm as the mentor to a young man who grew up without a dedicated father figure. Both bring such lovable honesty to their characters, which gives I Swear an even more meaningful atmosphere. The cast of this film (except Shirley Henderson and Steven Cree, who are prone to over-acting a bit too much, their portrayals of Davidson’s impatient and ignorant parents being slightly too on-the-nose are very strong, and bring the core themes to life with such incredible honesty and sincerity.

Simplicity is the most appropriate pathway to ensuring that Davidson’s story was told properly, since nothing would be achieved by a more complex examination of his journey, especially since he has always been quite frank about his desire to just lead a straightforward life, one in which his only request is to be able to overcome a condition that has held him back. Jones is a solid filmmaker, and one of his strengths is his ability to capture authentic emotions where they matter, which was one of the primary reasons I Swear is such an enormous success. The key is to allow the emotions to develop organically, rather than to tell the audience how we should react to a particular aspect of the story. Davidson’s outbursts are never viewed as dreadfully dramatic nor overly comedic, but instead exist somewhere in the middle – some of them are going to be more amusing (and the film doesn’t waste any opportunity to show how some of these situations can actually be quite funny, and the aftermath of many of them lead to a few of the film’s most charming moments), but always circle back to the core of this story, which is that the protagonist had to come to terms with the fact that he was always going to be viewed as a novelty at best, and a complete nuisance at worst, the latter being far more common and the primary reason for many of his struggles. Structurally, I Swear is quite conventional – it is a traditional coming-of-age story, featuring a first act dedicated to Davidson’s childhood, before jumping forward and dedicating the lion’s share of the film to his adult years, which is where the core of his journey truly took shape. The director keeps everything quite simple and elegant for the most part, never attempting to do more than what was required, while also offering insights that we would otherwise likely not have received had this film been a more conventional affair, since some of the tonal decisions, while subtle, do add layers to a story that tries to be both informative and touching, a combination that ultimately does carry a lot of weight, even if the final product is intentionally kept quite unfurnished and direct in an effort to remove any sense of ambiguity in terms of its overall intentions.

There may yet to be a cure for Tourette’s Syndrome, but the research continues to make incredible strides, especially in allowing those who suffer from this condition to maintain relatively normal lives, where their tics are greatly reduced (and in some cases almost entirely suppressed) – and while we can celebrate the scientists spearheading these efforts, we also have to acknowledge people like Davidson, who never positioned himself as an activist, but who nonetheless made invaluable contributions to shedding light onto the condition, simply through sharing his own experiences, telling his story to a world that came to appreciate his bravery and candour. I Swear is a beautiful tribute to someone whose story may not be widely known, but is nonetheless worth telling. By the time we reach the end of this story, we are likely going to have been profoundly moved and thoroughly entertained, which is quite an accomplishment for a film that tackles such intense, complex subject matter. This just proves that even the most challenging of subjects can easily be redefined to appeal to a much wider portion of the audience. This story gains nothing through trying to be revolutionary, but certainly does benefit from an approach that makes it accessible and endearing to those who are able to see themselves reflected in Davidson’s journey. This is not solely a film about Tourette’s Syndrome – it’s a beautifully moving, compelling call-to-arms designed to celebrate anyone who has ever felt like an outsider, proving that there is always a community, and that healing is not only possible, but inevitable, granted that you have the right people supporting your journey. Heartfelt, meaningful and often very funny, while also touching on a very difficult subject, I Swear is a true gem, and worth seeking out for anyone who craves something reliable but nonetheless deeply moving.