Kirk Jones’ latest drama I Swear, released in the United States on April 22 and tells the true story of John Davidson (Robert Aramayo). The title, perhaps on-the-nose, reveals John’s conflict: he swears, among other things. John has Tourette’s.
Based on the title and poster alone, I was skeptical about how great this movie could be. But after the trailer and perfect 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes leading up to its American premiere, I was intrigued. Not just about the movie — I was hopeful that this would be the kind of feature film the neurodivergent community needed. And in many ways, it was.
John Davidson had an ordinary Scottish childhood in the 1980s until he began middle school. Quickly and painfully, everything in his life changed. As you can imagine, the nature of Tourette’s syndrome compounded the challenges of school, athletics, friends, and finding work.
As a viewer, my heart broke for John — over and over again. I wanted to jump through the screen and give him a hug.
I was surprised to see this new project added to Jones’ body of work: accompanying the likes of My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, Everybody’s Fine, and Nanny McPhee. But surprise became admiration after seeing the clear spectrum of what he’s capable of.
Unlike the vast majority of neurodiversity’s narrow catalogue of representation in film, I Swear, neither infantilizes John nor does it glamorize his differences.
Unlike the vast majority of neurodiversity’s narrow catalogue of representation in film, I Swear, neither infantilizes John nor does it glamorize his differences. It simply places him in Scotland in the 1980s, and introduces him to us through the boy he was and a series of events that he had to go through.
At times, I was infuriated — with the world and with myself for not being able to solve his problems, even if only as a mental experiment — and at others I felt hopeless, more so than John himself. By the end, I felt compelled to search for a physical copy
and hand-deliver it to every grade-school in the Northeast until it was engrained in their curriculums.
John was always a good kid — not despite his environment, but in spite of it. He gives the world what he needed from them, but rarely received.
I Swear asks us if it’s really so hard to just be kind, and what the world might look like if giving grace is normalized.
I Swear asks us if it’s really so hard to just be kind, and what the world might look like if giving grace is normalized, even to those we aren’t certain deserve it — no, especially to those we lack certainty about. John and others like him, whether or not their communities understand them, deserve a world that accepts them — not forgives them — when they act in ways that society rejects.
I Swear is a brilliant example of representation. It does what seems impossible: forces its viewers to empathize with somebody they might not understand at all.
And for that reason, it should be required viewing.
