I Swear
Film
It's more than likely that, one way or another, you've heard about the Kirk Jones directed biopic, I Swear. The film centers on the early life of John Davidson, a Scottish man who has an extreme form of Tourette's syndrome, resulting in involuntary tics that come in various forms. Sadly, both the film and Davidson received swathes of publicity after an incident at the 2026 BAFTA's where Davidson's tics manifested as a racial slur being shouted while Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were presenting on stage, which is probably why all of this sounds so familiar. The BAFTA's extreme mishandling aside, Davidson has dedicated his life to campaigning for Tourette's, spreading awareness and understanding for the condition, all of which comes through in Jones' rather conventional, yet, earnest biopic.
If you didn't know anything about Davidson, the BAFTA's, or what Tourette's is, I Swear makes the wise decision to get that introduction done, swiftly, and hilariously. We first meet John (played by a fantastic Robert Aramayo) as he's preparing to be appointed a Member of the Order of the British Empire (MBE), one of the classifications of a knight, where he shouts "fuck the queen" towards the late Queen Elizabeth II. As suddenly irreverent as it was, it is the defining moment of I Swear's opening act. A jarring crack of a whip that even with the full context of Tourette's, is wildly funny. Within this narrow threshold of slapstick comedy and heartbreaking disability is where I Swear soars, excelling beyond its more conventional storytelling elements.
First of all, Jones' direction and writing is as mechanically and structurally sound as you could find. It establishes the heart and identity of Davidson from the jump, introduces us to his struggles as a kid when Tourette's begins to affect his life, and effectively walks us through his (and the world's) growth. You've heard it before, you've seen it before, and it's a formula that works. Sure it's nothing to shout from the mountaintops, but it is an enjoyable schematic for a biopic. However, the tone of the film is one of the saving graces, preventing I Swear from dipping into the pits of predictable mediocrity. Jones, and Aramayo, craft a well-timed and well-balanced mixture of thoughtful displays of Tourette's. They're well aware of the outrageous circumstances that Davidson could find himself, making a cup of tea for his boss Tommy (Peter Mullan) and blurting "I used spunk for milk", or meeting a friend's mother diagnosed with cancer and greeting her by saying "you're gonna die of cancer," these are but a small sample size of tics that showcase Davidson's condition portrayed in a humorous way. It might feel crass to even have the thought of laughing at a moment like this but I Swear is welcoming a good chuckle, if not entirely provoking it. Because there are plenty of other moments that are equally gut-wrenching and quietly uplifting that give Davidson a well-rounded characterization as someone that refuses to be looked down on, he refuses to call Tourette's a disability, and wants if anything to be understood and to lead a life of normalcy along with helping others.
For all of the delight of the film's tonal balance, the emotional heft of the film rests solely on Robert Aramayo's shoulders. His win for Best Leading Actor at the BAFTA's, besting the likes of Ethan Hawke, Timothée Chalamet, Michael B. Jordan, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Jesse Plemons was certainly a shock for American audiences as the film wasn't released in the U.S. by that time, but after watching his performance, it is entirely deserved. Aramayo is nothing short of magnetic. He commands the screen at every turn, walking with an assured confidence in himself yet harboring the weight of an unexpected outburst causing untold problems for those around him. It's a tremendously subtle aspect of his acting, but one that compounds as the film unfurls around him, elevating the emotion of his portrayal of Davidson into sensational territories. Yet most importantly, his performance never feels dishonest. Every action and tic feels earnest and you can't help but be empathetic to the man on-screen along with his real life counterpart.
I Swear may sound like one of those schmaltzy biopics, but with powerful performances from Aramayo, Mullan, and Maxine Peake, the final product is a far richer experience, genuinely moving you in ways the premise alone doesn't promise. I Swear is not only a triumphant story about Davidson's work, but a true star's welcome for Aramayo.
Froth
For I Swear, I went with an oldie but a goodie, Pike Brewing Company's Scottish Ale, the Kilt Lifter. Is that a slightly derivative move as Davidson's biopic takes place in Galashiels Scotland? Sure, yeah, I'll own up to that. But why not treat yourself to an immersive experience! Not to mention, the Kilt Lifter is a fantastic example of a purely delightful Scottish ale. Its malt forward flavor, accompanied by swathes of caramel and toffee sweetness give a delicious taste profile that is exactly what you want with a brew like this. Toss in a full mouthfeel that's smooth, and dare I say velvety, Pike Brewing understandably keeps this one in their rotation of staples, and you should too.
