Is the primary audience for “Ozzy: No Escape From Now” metalheads … or caregivers? There’s not often a significant crossover audience there. But there’s no mistaking that the Paramount+ documentary about the rocker’s final years is mostly somber stuff, focused more on his pain, frailty and depression than on the few moments when he is convinced to go into entertainer mode, as best he can. The “Diary of a Madman” singer is much more of a sad man in director Tania Alexander’s fairly unflinching portrait of a legendary musician grappling with a diminishing quality of life as his body finds new ways to fail him. Fans expecting something more overtly uplifting may need to buckle up.
It’s clear that when Alexander and her team began filming on the doc four years ago, there was some expectation or at least a hope of finding a story that would end with Osbourne rising up and overcoming his afflictions. But his followers may be surprised to learn — and probably Alexander was, too — that however bad his public thought Ozzy might have been doing as he rescheduled and then canceled gigs, he was actually doing a little bit worse than that. There’s not any whitewashing going on here as the singer’s physical condition goes from bad to worse as filming goes on in period visits over the last four years. It can be a tough watch, seeing someone who has been such an avatar of maniacal fun confessing that his pain is so chronic, he has moments of wanting it all to just end.
At times it does seem like the audience that is most likely to find “No Escape From Now” worth all the frustration and sorrow may be family members who have loved ones dealing with similar issues of creeping decrepitude. But eventually, in the second hour, the film does settle into “fun” mode, or as close as it’s going to get, as the tired and somewhat reluctant star gets nudged toward activities that will bring him moments of respite.
There are all-star recording sessions with his greatest cheerleader, producer Andrew Watt, for what turns out to be a final album, 2022’s “Patient Number 9.” In 2024, he shows up for his even starrier Rock & Roll Hall of Hame induction as a solo artist, with Jack Black infectiously leading the cheer squad. And, of course, in July of this year, Osbourne actually roused himself to sing — from a throne — at a massively publicized and televised farewell concert in his native Birmingham, just three weeks before he died. Just how happy that counts as an ending will be in the eye of the beholder, but it’s happier than some of the earlier passages, where he seems ready to resign himself to a downhill slope, out of the public’s eye.
Along with anything else, this is effectively the two-hour series finale of “The Osbournes,” with a lot less madcap fun and repartee. It’s also a very flattering portrait of Sharon Osbourne — and of course it would be, with her as one of the executive producers — but credibly flattering. It’s hard for a viewer to know for sure if the subject’s wife is as even-tempered, patient and supportive off-camera as on. Still, the tenderness between the two of them, as they become somewhat long-suffering together, sure feels real, as she settles even further into the role of motivational coach for a husband who has very good reasons for feeling like he doesn’t want to get out of bed, let alone do physical therapy. If they gave an Emmy for “best supporting,” leaving off the actress part, you might say she merits it here. And while it seems that Ozzy is being hamstrung by some of the same issues that can befall anyone at his time of life, it’s clear not everyone has a navigator like this to help make a way through it. He’s gotten both the short end and the long end of the stick.
As for what got Osbourne to the sorry state shown in some of these scenes, that’s a sad story that involves what the family insinuates is medical malpractice. If true, it’s a bracing reminder that not even great wealth necessarily brings a correct diagnosis or treatment at every turn. The litany of the singer’s setbacks almost requires a road map: In October 2018, in the middle of a two-year tour, he was forced to cancel everything after getting a staph infection in his neck and a compromised immune system. Four months later, he had a fall, “and that was it,” as Sharon tells it, for his future health.
The doc shows footage of Osbourne happily bopping around in his bed before going in for surgery, with the contention that he came out far worse than he came in — “having posture like fucking Gollum,” as daughter Kelly puts it. The family’s position is that the surgery was “overly aggressive,” with a different surgeon saying he can’t undo all the damage … leading to the crushing realization that, with some calamities in life, there are no do-overs.
“I was getting ready to fucking off myself at some point,” Osbourne says, describing a pain that never leaves him, but “knowing me, I’d half do it and I’d be half dead … I’d fucking set myself on fire. I mean, I wouldn’t die. That’s my luck.” It is a big step forward to get from this mindset to at least being willing to force himself to go back to work, in very slight dribs and drabs, in a way that seems to offer at least a bit of replenishment. But the sight you may most remember from “No Escape From Now” is a scene from that farewell concert in July, half-backstage and on-stage. Osbourne steps onto a riser, looking like a defeated man … and then, a few seconds before coming into public view of his final audience, breaks into his trademark Looney Tunes grin. The abrupt, forced transition is a little bit sad, but we can sure hope that the adoration of 100,000 ultimately turned into a moment of real joy for him.
If you’re a big Ozzy fan, you probably already love him for being brave enough to go out and meet his public one last time, against what we can now see from this film were nearly all odds. But the greater bravery might have been going on camera repeatedly for this doc, and allowing himself to convey that old age is not for the faint-hearted, even as it renders you fainter of heart. That truth feels at least as cathartic, in its own gallows-wisdom way, as a big farewell party.
