🔗 Share this article

Which activities might religious leaders participate in in their own leisure hours? Recently, this writer ventured accompanied by a couple of friends, both fellow pastors, to view the new picture called I Swear. Based on its preview, I understood that the film focused on a person living with Tourette syndrome. What I didn’t know turned out to be the fact it depicted a real person: the subject, that starred in a previous late eighties documentary who later earned a British Empire Medal in recognition of his campaigns to teach people about Tourette's and assist those affected.

Learning About Tourette's

Prior to this documentary, most people did not known about TS. Nearly 40 years afterwards, most individuals roughly knows what it is, yet it’s still viewed as a joke – particularly in the comedy circuit.

Based on the trailer, it was evident which the production was going to try to balance through simultaneously leveraging the obvious funny moments from someone yelling highly offensive words at inopportune times while also attempting to continue Davidson’s work of educating the public in a compassionate approach. It is hoped this isn't revealing too much to mention it was successful on both counts – but obviously I only knew that by the end.

A Startling Movie Encounter

When the movie commenced, a teenager seated in the row nearby suddenly exclaimed a series of curse words. For a minute, it seemed this was a prank – albeit a joke in very poor taste. However, it was soon evident that here was someone genuinely diagnosed with Tourette syndrome: an adolescent alongside his dad.

While the story progressed, so did the teenager – and there was no visible intervention by either the parent nor anybody in the audience. This led to slightly conflicted. Undoubtedly, this represented an important moment for the boy and his father to watch their no doubt incredibly difficult existence depicted in a film, so it was positive that they were having that opportunity. But was it fair if I along with other viewers in the auditorium struggled to follow the film due to the noise? Would the venue have been able to put on an exclusive showing – like several theaters often provide to neurodiverse people in general?

A Personal Dilemma

It's regrettable to admit which I genuinely thought about complaining – however, not to the parent himself (I am no a monster), instead to the manager of the cinema. Yet, both of the author's clearly more charitable colleagues had come to terms with the events. Additionally, lurking in my thoughts was the fictional yet memorable scene in Extras where Ricky Gervais’s Andy Millman complains about a child being disruptive in public, ignorant that the child has a genetic condition. He endured the resultant public criticism – and my offence might have been even more inappropriate because I understood the individual simply couldn’t help it.

A Transformative Awakening

Luckily, my better nature prevailed then something extraordinary unfolded during the next 90 minutes. Initially, I simply became accustomed to the initially distracting noise. Later, as the film approached its conclusion and the audience observed the deeply freeing effect which the protagonist's support groups offered for numerous individuals, I experienced humbled and very privileged to be sharing this time with people who had real experience not just portrayed on screen – although Robert Aramayo’s acting as the character was excellent and in my view, award-worthy.

There have been comparable situations while watching films previously – viewing The King’s Speech alongside a friend with a speech impediment and his speech therapist wife, alternatively bumping into former servicemen of World War II after the show after Saving Private Ryan – yet this was far more impactful. It felt like an enhanced viewing, however instead of the chairs moving about or splashes spraying the audience, the individuals were right beside you stating, “This is more than entertainment. It’s my reality.” And then using foul language. Spunk for milk.

An Uplifting Resolution

So I refrained from objecting. When the credits rolled, I even approached and expressed gratitude to the teenager – aged fourteen – along with the parent, dad, for the gift of being there, that without a doubt enhanced our viewing more meaningful compared to what we expected. Afterwards conversed at length then took a selfie with everyone – during which the group shouted an expletive in solidarity with the boy.

Final Thoughts

I highly recommend people to view this brilliant production and if the opportunity arises to find yourself watching alongside with a person experiencing Tourette's, {don’t be a nim