I Swear (2026) is written & directed by Kirk Jones. It stars Robert Aramayo, Maxine Peake, Shirley Henderson, Scott Ellis Watson, Francesco Piacentini-Smith, Steven Cree, Sanjeev Kohli, Ron Donachie, Leah MacRae, Douglas Rankine, Chris Dixon, Jamie Marie Leary, Peter Mullan, and Anthony Capaldi. The film tells the true story of John Davidson (Aramayo), who, at a young age, is diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome. Faced with many hardships that alienate him from his peers, John struggles to live a normal life. With his mental health dwindling, John is given a lifeline by a former schoolmate’s terminally ill mother, Dottie (Peake). In exchange for giving her a purpose in her final days, Dottie helps John control/accept his condition and become a contributing, thriving member of society.

As John Davidson, Robert Aramayo gives a committed, authentic, Oscar-worthy lead performance. He, without a doubt, deserves the best actor award he won for the role at the 2026 BAFTAs. Not a single aspect of the character’s ticks feels forced or unnatural, which is only infinitely more impressive when considering that he sustains the illusion throughout all of the 2-hour-plus runtime. On top of this, it helps that David is never a character who wallows in the unfortunate nature of his situation, despite how many times the world kicks him when he’s down. Sure, this makes him soft-spoken and fearful, but he’s rarely driven by anger or a ‘why me?’ mentality. We want to root for him, not simply because he was dealt a bad hand in life, but more so because he’s genuinely a nice/good person who deserves better. 

Maxine Peake as John’s maternal savior/mentor, Dottie, gives an equally strong performance despite being the more archetypal of the two leads. The character’s kindness could have easily come across as unrealistically selfless, but the script does a great job of establishing her motivations, subtly or otherwise. There’s also something particularly effective about the character’s brand of no-nonsense love. The only time she’s tough/stern towards David is when he’s being hard on himself for his condition, which isn’t something he can control.

Although the film goes through many of the beats you expect from the ‘based-on-a-true-story’ subgenre, it executes almost all of them at a level high enough to avoid feeling like a cliche experience. David’s story is highly familiar but comes across as realistic and universal rather than cliché (which many of the beats technically are). This authenticity, combined with the mundane tragedy of David’s early years, is immediately compelling. It’s easy to sympathize with the character, which leads to countless palpable emotional beats that caused me to shed tears. The drama here is exceptional, but what sets this apart from the typical tear-jerker is the script’s raw approach to humor, which makes fantastic use of the inherent humor of Tourette’s syndrome.

This condition can often cause those who have it to blurt out things which would typically be considered rude, disgusting, threatening, etc. However, in very simple terms, this is the brain being unable to filter what should/shouldn’t be said in any given situation, as well as to control whether and when they say it. This, as you can expect, can lead to many awkwardly hilarious situations, but also an equal number of tense ones. This balance keeps the viewer unsure about how people will react to David, which heightens the tension while also keeping your guard down for an unexpected comedic punchline. The laughs themselves carry the experience through stretches that would otherwise feel dull, but most importantly, they make this a film that almost anyone can enjoy.

Overall, I Swear is a familiar yet exemplary ‘based on a true story’ tearjerker that excels with both its drama and humor. Robert Aramayo delivers one of the best lead performances of the year, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Maxine Peake received some attention in supporting categories. It’s a classic ‘feel bad, feel good’ experience, and it’s maybe the best of its kind. A-