I Swear (2025) • Review • Contains Spoilers

Based on the remarkable true story of John Davidson, I Swear is a moving British drama that explores what it means to live with Tourette syndrome in a world that doesn’t always understand it. Featuring outstanding performances from Robert Aramayo, Scott Ellis Watson and Peter Mullan, this is a film that is as funny as it is heartbreaking.

In this review, I share why I Swear became one of the year’s biggest surprises for me, how it balances humour with genuine emotion, and why I think it’s a film that everyone should experience at least once.

This review contains light spoilers.

🎬 COMING UP NEXT

Next Review: The Sheep Detective

Release Date: Monday, 6 July

Our next review heads to Prime Video for The Sheep Detective, and it’ll also mark a new chapter for Frame 70 as Darryl takes the microphone for his very first solo review. It’ll be great to finally introduce his voice to the podcast, and I can’t wait for you to hear what he brings to the conversation.

Thanks for listening to Frame 70 Reviews. New reviews every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, along with classics revisited in From the Vault. Every review in full at frame70.com

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:10

What's up everybody, and welcome back to the podcast. I'm Fraser, your host, and today we're taking a look at I Swear, the 2025 British biographical drama directed by Kirk Jones and starring Robert Aramaio, Scott Ellis Watson, Maxine Peake, and Peter Mullen. And as always, we're answering one simple question. Is it worth your time? Let's get into it. Going into I Swear, I honestly knew very little about it. I knew it was a British film, which immediately had my attention, because I've always had a soft spot for British dramas. They tend to feel a little more grounded, a little more character-driven, and when they're based on true stories, they often avoid feeling overly Hollywood. What I also realized before sitting down was that I knew surprisingly little about Tourette's syndrome itself. I understood the basics, but beyond that, I couldn't honestly say I'd ever knowingly met somebody living with the condition. By the time the credits rolled, I'd learnt far more than I expected. Not because the film lectures you, but because it invites you to experience life through someone else's eyes. I swear tells the true story of John Davidson, who was diagnosed with Tourette's syndrome at the age of 15 before going on to become one of the UK's biggest advocates for education and awareness surrounding the condition. It's a story about misunderstanding, acceptance, resilience, and ultimately discovering purpose through adversity. The film actually opens near the end of John's journey as he's waiting to receive his MBE from Queen Elizabeth II. He's understandably nervous, and almost immediately you're reminded that his Tourette's doesn't suddenly disappear because he's standing inside Buckingham Palace. Without giving too much away, what happens during that opening sequence had the entire cinema reacting. Some people laughed, some people gasped, and I think that's exactly the point. Very quickly, the film asks you a question that stayed with me for most of the running time. Is it okay to laugh? Not at John, but at the situations his Tourette's creates. From there we jump back to the early 1980s, and I immediately smiled because the soundtrack kicks in with New Order's Blue Monday. I love movies that know how to use music to transport you straight into an era, and this one absolutely nails it. But the tone changes pretty quickly. We're introduced to John as a teenager before anyone really understands what's happening to him, and his tics begin appearing in the worst possible place. A classroom, surrounded by other teenagers. Watching Scott Ellis Watson portray those early years is genuinely heartbreaking. Considering this is his screen debut, it's an incredibly mature performance. He never feels like he's acting out symptoms. Instead, he captures the confusion, embarrassment, and fear of a young boy whose own body suddenly seems to be working against him. What hit me hardest wasn't the Tourette's itself. It was everybody else's reaction to it. Teachers don't understand, classmates bully him, and even his own family initially mistake his outbursts for bad behavior rather than recognizing that something neurological is happening. And historically, that's actually accurate. Although Tourette's syndrome had begun to be recognized medically by the early 1980s, public awareness was incredibly limited. Most people simply didn't know what they were looking at. That context makes those early scenes even harder to watch. You're watching a teenager punish for something he literally cannot control. One sequence in particular really stayed with me. John walks into a river, and at first I wasn't entirely sure what I was watching. Was he trying to escape? Was he simply looking for peace? Or was this something far darker? The film doesn't rush the moment, it lets you sit with it. When John later finds himself in hospital, confronting just how desperate things have become, it emerges as one of the emotional turning points of the story. It reminds you that Tourette's isn't simply about involuntary movements or shouting words, it's about the emotional weight of living in a world that constantly misunderstands you. After a time jump, we meet John as an adult, now played by Robert Aramaio. I've always known Robert from The Lord of the Rings, The Rings of Power, where he plays Elrond, and before that as young Ned Stark in Game of Thrones. Those are both excellent performances, but this one is something else entirely. He completely disappears into John. There isn't a single moment where you feel like you're watching Robert Aramaio giving a performance. You're simply watching John Davidson and his life unfold. The amount of preparation that must have gone into understanding the physical ticks, the vocal outbursts, and more importantly, the emotional exhaustion behind them is remarkable. It's one of those performances where the acting almost becomes invisible because it feels so completely authentic. One thing I found fascinating is that even as an adult, John spends more time worrying about making other people uncomfortable than he does worrying about himself. He's constantly apologizing, constantly trying to explain, constantly trying to make everyone else feel okay. That probably hit me harder than any of the actual ticks. You realize how much emotional energy he spends protecting other people from his own condition. And that's incredibly sad. As John's life continues, something really interesting starts to happen. The film slowly shifts away from simply showing us what Tourette's syndrome is and instead starts showing us who John is. That's a really important distinction. Tourette's is part of his life, but it isn't his identity. One of the biggest reasons that works is because of the people who begin coming into John's life. Peter Mullen plays Tommy, the caretaker who becomes far more than just a work colleague. I've always enjoyed Peter Mullen's work, and more recently, audiences will know him as King Duran III in the Lord of the Rings, the Rings of Power. Here though, he brings this wonderful warmth and honesty to Tommy. He's the kind of mentor everyone hopes they'll meet at some point in life, someone who doesn't see John as needing to be fixed, but simply as someone who needs believing in. One conversation between the two really stuck with me. Tommy tells John that Tourette's isn't actually the biggest problem. The biggest problem is that people simply don't understand it. That becomes the emotional turning point of the entire movie, and instead of trying to hide from the world, John slowly begins to realize that maybe the answer is helping the world understand him. There were quite a few moments throughout the film where I genuinely didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and I mean that in the best possible way. Some of John's outbursts are completely unexpected. Sometimes they're genuinely funny, other times they create incredibly uncomfortable situations. There's one sequence in a nightclub where one of his involuntary movements knocks a drink out of someone's hand and suddenly he's in a fight through absolutely no fault of his own. You spend the entire film with this constant feeling of unease because you never know what situation John is going to find himself in next. Not because of anything he's chosen to do, but simply because his body decides for him. It's actually a brilliant piece of filmmaking because you start feeling that same anxiety alongside him. The film also doesn't shy away from showing the darker side of that reality. There's a brutal sequence where John is assaulted and left badly beaten beneath a bridge. It's a difficult watch, not because it's graphic, but because by this point you've grown to care so much about him. Moments like that remind you how vulnerable people living with misunderstood neurological conditions can be when they're surrounded by ignorance rather than compassion. Thankfully, the film never allows itself to become hopeless. Every difficult moment is balanced by another reminder that kindness can genuinely change someone's life. And that brings me to my frame 70 moment. It actually arrives much later than I expected. John is now older, more confident, and far more accepting of who he is. A couple approach him after being given his details by the hospital. Their young daughter has Tourette syndrome. She's frightened, she's isolated, and she's never actually met another person living with the condition. John agrees to meet her, and the first few minutes are absolute chaos. Both of their ticks completely take over. They're shouting, they're making involuntary movements. Neither of them can really get a sentence out. I found myself smiling because, for the first time in the entire film, John wasn't trying to apologize for who he was. He was simply sharing the moment with someone who completely understood it. Then everything settles. He quietly smiles at her and asks, Are you alright? She smiles back and simply nods. It's such a small moment, but it says absolutely everything. For the first time, she doesn't feel alone, and for the first time, John realizes that everything he's been through might actually help somebody else. That was easily my frame 70 moment. From there, the film builds towards a genuinely uplifting conclusion. John begins organizing weekends for children living with Tourette syndrome while also educating parents. He starts speaking to schools, police officers, medical staff, and community groups. Instead of hiding from the condition, he's helping thousands of other people understand it. What I also loved is that many of the people appearing during these later scenes are individuals who actually live with Tourette's syndrome themselves, which gives those sequences an authenticity that you simply couldn't fake. Then comes one final scene that quietly stayed with me. John visits a research facility where he's given the opportunity to trial a new treatment. For a few precious minutes, the ticks stop. He simply walks, talks with people, wanders through a library, and then he suddenly realizes something. Five minutes have passed. Five minutes without a single tick. The film doesn't overplay it and doesn't turn it into some big Hollywood triumph. It's simply peaceful, and somehow that makes it even more emotional. The closing credits then show real photographs and home video footage of the real John Davidson throughout his life. Seeing the actual man after spending two hours watching actors bring his story to life adds one final emotional layer. You're reminded that this wasn't simply a touching screenplay. Someone genuinely lived through everything you've just watched. And thanks to him, countless other families now understand Tourette's syndrome a little better. The Frame 70 verdict for I Swear? That was brilliant. This isn't a film packed with huge twists or blockbuster spectacle. It's a film about empathy, about understanding, about looking beyond the condition and seeing the person. I walked into this movie knowing very little about Tourette syndrome and walked out with a completely different appreciation for what people living with it experience every single day. That's exactly what great biographical films should do. They don't just tell someone else's story, they quietly change the way you look at the world afterwards. If you're looking for a moving British drama with outstanding performances from both Scott Ellis Watson and Robert Aramayo, wonderful support from Peter Mullen, and a true story that stays with you long after the credits roll, I genuinely think I swear is well worth your time. And if you do watch it, I'd love to know whether it affected you the same way it affected me. Until next time, thanks for listening, and I'll catch you in the next review. Thanks for listening to Frame 70 Movie and TV Reviews. If you enjoyed today's review, you can follow Frame 70 wherever you get your podcasts, and find us at frame70.com. And before we go, let's remember something that sits right at the heart of this show. Movies are subjective. The way a film impacts me might be completely different to the way it impacts you. A movie I connect with might leave someone else completely cold. A film that doesn't work for me might become one of your all-time favorites. And that's okay. That's part of what makes movies worth talking about in the first place. There are no right or wrong opinions here, only different experiences. So watch widely, stay curious, and remember, movies are subjective.