DVD Review: Ozzy Osbourne - Speak of the Devil
Eagle Vision
All Access Review: A-
 |
| Ozzy Osbourne - Speak of the Devil 2012 |
Rudy Sarzo writes in the photo-filled booklet that accompanies “Speak of the Devil”
of Ozzy’s “fragile mental state” as the “Diary of a Madman” tour soldiered on
in the aftermath of Randy Rhoads’ unthinkable death. That old saw about how “the
show must go on” meant as much to a distraught Ozzy in his time of mourning as
it ever did for any entertainer down through history, and Sarzo, Ozzy’s bassist
at the time, shudders to think how the singer would have reacted had his
traveling circus been shut down.
Desperate for the warm, sympathetic embrace of thousands of
rabid fans, Ozzy and his carnival of the damned rolled into Irvine Meadows,
California, on June 12, 1982, after an understandable delay and held a
head-banging Irish wake for the virtuoso guitarist, slamming Sabbath’s “Iron
Man,” “Children of the Grave” and the encore “Paranoid” to the wall after ripping
the throat out of a slew of Ozzy’s solo hits. Now out on DVD, with audio restored
and remastered with crystal – perhaps even unnatural – digital clarity, this is
more than just a historical document of an electrifying performance from one of
metal’s legendary front men. As he pounds his chest during a blazing rendition
of “Crazy Train” – with Rhoads’ replacement, the underrated Brad Gillis,
hungrily tearing through the song’s familiar riffs and manhandling its scorching
leads – or somewhat clumsily executes one of his exuberant frog jumps, Ozzy,
clapping away with arms raised, makes a grim reaper-defying gesture here as he
drinks in the healing elixir of rock ‘n’ roll, as trite as that sounds. Ozzy is
born again, his rebirth a devilishly delightful rock ‘n’ roll spectacle.
And it takes place while he’s surrounded by a really cool
medieval castle for a stage and all the smoke, fire and pulsating multi-colored
lights that rock ‘n’ roll fantasies are made of – plus a laser-lit bat that
flies overhead during Ozzy’s dramatic entrance. Visually, though awfully dark
on occasion, “Speak of the Devil” is filmed with professional sensibilities, combining
expansive faraway shots and close-ups that often focus on the careening,
razor-sharp musicianship and clenched-teeth intensity of Sarzo and Gillis
during marauding, energetic romps through “Over the Mountains,” “Steal Away (The
Night),” “I Don’t Know,” and “Flying High Again.” When, in a moment of
unscripted playfulness, Ozzy bites into Gillis’ head and threatens to bash his
skull as he grinds away during a blistering “Suicide Solution” solo, the camera
frames the moment artfully, just as it does when Ozzy welcomes Gillis to the
band with a big bear hug while the new guy shreds “Mr. Crowley.”
All of Ozzy’s demented, crowd-baiting antics are on display,
as the comically ghoulish dwarf mascot “Ronnie” is hung during an otherwise
lovely and wistful reading of “Goodbye to Romance.” Later, before launching
into “Paranoid,” Ozzy slips on a glove that shoots fireworks out of its
fingers. And the staging is absurdly massive and gloriously tone-deaf to fading
calls for rock to be less ostentatious. Up high in one of the fortress’s
balconies is hooded keyboardist Don Airey, whose regret-tinged piano colors the
eco-friendly, peace-loving “Revelation (Mother Earth)” with all-too-human
expressions of sadness, while his sinister intro to “Mr. Crowley” is pure
horror-movie magic. On the staircase that serves as a drum riser, Tommy Aldridge
pounds the night away, throwing the sticks aside and using only his hands in
the midst of a frenzied drum solo midway through the show.
Everybody gets their turn in the spotlight on “Speak of the
Devil,” and if there were any extras – maybe a featurette on the tour’s
outlandish theatricality, perhaps some interviews with Ozzy or any of his band
mates to give context to the event (Sarzo’s emotional insider’s perspective in
the accompanying booklet shining some light on the inner workings of Ozzy’s
crew), or just a smattering of behind-the-scenes footage – this DVD would be
absolutely essential. As it is, “Speak of the Devil” is a captivating snapshot
of a time when Ozzy was on the verge of going off the rails but somehow managed
to keep the train rolling.
-
Peter Lindblad
