"You swear, you spit, you disturb people. Have you forgotten that?" Unveiled in Toronto, a hit at the UK box office and screened in competition in the 26th Arras Film Festival, I Swear by Kirk Jones sets out along the perilous path of the disability film, a genre where the slightest misstep can prove artistically fatal, whether through an excess of pathos or a lack of credibility. Yet not only does the British filmmaker deftly sidestep these pitfalls by delivering a poignant, funny, instructive, humanist and exhilarating film, he also shines a very bright light on his main character (directly inspired by the very real life of John Davidson and adapted from his documentary, John's Not Mad) and on Tourette syndrome, whose symptoms (tics, obscene outbursts, uncontrollable gestures) could have proven incredibly difficult to depict accurately on screen without sliding into potentially unbearable caricature. The result is a genuine tour de force, carried by Robert Aramayo’s extraordinary performance.

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"There’s nothing we can do for you. If you’re not faking it, you should be in an institution." It’s 1983 in Galashiels, a small town in the Scottish Borders, and for young teenager John (Scott Ellis Watson) who’s starting at a new school, a genuine nightmare is unfolding, characterised by the onset of violent motor and vocal tics. Marginalised and teased at school, and firmly in the sights of the merciless headteacher, John also sees his hopes of a football career evaporate and his family home fall apart when his father walks out, exasperated by this incomprehensible and unforeseen situation.

Thirteen years later, we find our hapless anti-hero (Robert Aramayo) up to his eyeballs in antipsychotics, adrift and still living with his mother (Shirley Henderson). His condition now has a name: "It’s called Tourette syndrome and there’s no treatment." But a childhood friend (Francesco Piacentini-Smith) introduces him to his mother, Dottie (Maxine Peake), a deeply generous woman who believes she has only six months to live and who decides to take John under her wing. Over time, thanks also to another tolerant guardian angel (Peter Mullan) who gives him a job, and despite the inevitable setbacks brought on by his illness (leading to clashes with the police and the courts), John gradually grows, turning into a reference figure, of sorts, for Tourette’s, both in terms of the general public and for everyone sharing his condition.

Charting this incredible, emblematic journey (which earned Davidson a Member of the Order of the British Empire medal, personally presented by the Queen of England, as teased in the film’s prologue) with affection and great narrative efficiency, seasoned director Kirk Jones delivers a mighty fine feature, perfectly balancing the moving but also involuntarily comical aspects of John’s behaviour. This straightforward and deeply honest approach goes straight to viewers’ hearts and, paradoxically, almost elevates I Swear to a feel-good movie which pays tribute to a man who managed to overcome the barriers of ostracisation and fulfil himself as an individual, with the help of a handful of open-minded souls.

I Swear was produced by Tempo Productions and One Story High. Bankside Films are handling international sales.