I Swear (2025 film)

“Fuck the Queen!” is what this film asserts John Davidson (Robert Aramayo) called out at the Investiture in 2019 at the Palace of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh, where he was presented with an MBE, in recognition of his work to raise awareness and understanding of Tourette syndrome, a neurological disorder. Named for Georges Gilles de la Tourette (1857-1904), who published a study in 1885 of nine patients, all of whom had involuntary movements, or ‘tics’, a century later, Davidson left school without any qualifications. According to the film’s portrayal of his formative years, the headmaster of his school was arguably more unsympathetic than bullying fellow pupils. The only real support appeared to come from Dottie Achenbach (Maxine Peake), the mother of fellow pupil Murray (Francesco Piacentini-Smith), and even this was only after John and Murray had left school. They still had corporal punishment in Scottish schools at the time, though I must say their school dinners, as presented in this film, looked a lot more substantial and appetising than the gloop on offer when I was a schoolboy in London.

I’ve retained a cinema membership for some years now and every year I reach the point where I need to use or lose my allocation of ‘free’ tickets – inverted commas because there are membership fees to pay, but it still works out cheaper per ticket than paying the standard full price for each one. Anyway, I was in two minds going into this film: was it going to be oversentimental, or preachy, or judgemental of people who were unsure how to react to the sudden vulgarities spouting out of John’s mouth? There was a bit of preachiness at the very end, when some printed text started sermonising about how people should be more caring and sympathetic, and that’s the best way in which people with Tourette syndrome can function and contribute to society at large. Or something like that. But for the most part, it’s a very watchable experience, and quite refreshing too.

It’s staggering and more than a little shocking to think that the likes of John Davidson MBE might yet be locked up under the current Labour government for hurty words, regardless of intention. Take, for example, him saying in one scene that he’s murdered someone (he didn’t – it was the Tourette syndrome manifesting itself yet again). John was also on the receiving end of retaliatory attacks, with at least one member of the public enlisting her peers to execute revenge on John after he inadvertently yelled a derogatory term at her. The actual John, mind you, has been on screen before, thanks to a BBC Television documentary in 1989 called John’s Not Mad, and some subsequent shows including The Boy Can’t Help It, broadcast in 2002, and Tourettes: I Swear I Can’t Help It, which aired in 2009.

John was offered, thanks to Dottie pulling a few strings, employment at Langlee Community Centre at Galashiels, a Scottish Borders town, working alongside Tommy Trotter (Peter Mullan) – John was eventually to succeed Tommy as full-time permanent caretaker. According to the actual centre’s website, the real John is still in their employment at the time of writing. Tourette syndrome was still largely unknown in Scotland at the time, so various locals diagnosed with it were sometimes ‘referred’ to John, who was only too happy to meet them. The most memorable moment for me in the film was two people, John and a teenage girl, yelling obscenities, at length, simultaneously, within seconds of meeting each other. It seemed very cathartic.

Not tugging at the heartstrings too much – thank goodness, or, as John might put it, thank fuck – this is a remarkable story. It’s firmly in the ‘triumph over adversity’ genre but ultimately there’s a grittiness and depth to this engaging film.

Fuck it, so to speak. Five stars.