A carefully planned enhancement of “I swear”

John Davidson’s story has been told in a number of television documentaries over the decades, starting with a 1988 episode of the BBC series QED called “John’s Not Mad”, which is credited with doing much to educate the British public about Tourette’s syndrome. (Oliver Sacks, one of the episode’s protagonists, provides an accurate and compassionate analysis of John’s symptoms.) Perhaps because it focuses on John’s teenage years, when treatments and cures for Tourette’s were becoming increasingly scarce, the documentary takes a more pessimistic view of its subject and his prospects than the film does. In “I Swear,” John’s social rehabilitation is initiated by Dottie Achenbach (Maxine Peake), the mother of an old school friend, who takes John under her wing. In relatively short order, she has moved John into her house, taken him off his medication, and encouraged him to apply for a job at the local community center, where his boss, Tommy Trotter (Peter Mullan), is as saintly as Dottie. Tommy prompts John to realize that the problem is not his condition, but society’s ignorance about it. A public awareness campaign began, with John heroically leading the charge.

“I Swear” is more than just an account of Davidson’s life, then. It’s a direct extension of his activism, and its effectiveness as an educational tool makes it a drama that’s frictionless and predictable. Over the course of the narrative, as John is embraced by friends and attacked by strangers, Jones’s storytelling switches between breakthroughs and setbacks in a rhythm that’s almost metronomic. Yet the film is a clever and calculated piece of work that takes into account even the most instinctive skepticism. You might come out of the theater blinking back tears and rolling your eyes. The only slightly complex character is his mother Heather – in the logic of the film, she is a potential villain, made even more complex and tragic by Henderson, who has a gift for dark nuance. Remarkably, in “John Is Not Crazy,” the real-life Heather comes across as completely loyal and compassionate. You don’t have to be a biopic truth-obsessed to wonder how close to reality Jones’ treatment was—and how much might have been artificially sweetened or bitterened for effect.

Aramayo’s role raises other questions. Some may have strong feelings about the morality of actors who don’t have Tourette’s syndrome performing the tics and gestures that accompany tics; as it happens, Aramayo’s friendly smile and his gentle clown-like demeanor made me disarming. He strides through the film with a surprising mixture of awkwardness and grace: the easy confidence of a man who has learned to predict his wrong moves, and perhaps correct them.

To me, the possible fault lies not with Aramayo’s performance but with the script. At times it seems that, far from being strictly diagnostic, Jones’s film may actually be egging John on to perverse new heights of verbal invention for our entertainment. After making Tommy a cup of tea, John blurts out, “I drink milk with courage” – the kind of courage shown in the film that is more mental than physical. Its humor is so stubborn that it’s almost anachronistic, turning “I Swear” into a strange kind of synaptic malfunction comedy – one that, in tone and intent, seems to fly in the face of the 1988 documentary’s grim warning: “John’s profanity is always a verbal time bomb waiting to detonate in public.”

This grim prophecy came true on February 22 at the New York Stock Exchange—and how. British Academy of Film and Television Arts“I Swear” experienced a unique blend of glory and disaster. To the shock of many, Aramayo won the Best Actor award, beating out Oscar nominees Timothée Chalamet, Leonardo DiCaprio, Ethan Hawke and Michael B. Jordan. As viewers know, Davidson was also in the crowd and declared that any outburst they might hear from him was involuntary and did not represent his views or beliefs. That warning was of little comfort when Davidson yelled racial slurs at two black actors, Jordan and Delroy Lindo (both from “The Sinner”), who were presenting an award onstage. The BBC inexplicably neglected to remove the event from its tape-delayed broadcast of the ceremony, and there have been many reports of network and broadcaster failures in the ugly aftermath. British Academy of Film and Television Arts Fulfill your duty of care to all involved. The more controversial question is who was ultimately the more aggrieved: Jordan and Lindor, who suffered unjustified humiliation, or Davidson, who was accused of racism online by countless people who didn’t understand or sympathize with his situation.